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FlJA F C L O i. A liLD L 









Tttritkt^ TmnlaliBi 

Jji . e . -^y. 


a Concise and Popular Account of the Different Styles prevailing in all Ages and 
allOountries. With 8&0 illustratiooa. Bvo. 2«t. London. Murray. 1859. 


. Being a Seqnel to the ' Handbook of Architecture ' With 312 Illuatrationi>. 8vu. 
3U. 6d London, Murray, 1862. 


BKALTV IN ART. mure especially with reference to Architecture. Royal hv<>. 
3l«. 6d. LoDdon, liuqgmana, 1H49. 

An Kbt«y on Andent Assyrian and Persian Archiiectarc. 8vo. 16<. Ix>ndon, 
Murray, 1851. 


18 Plates in Tinted Lithography, folio : with an 8vo. volume of Text, Flam, &c. 
21. 7s. 6cL London, Weale, 1845. 


TURK IN HINDOSTAN. 24 Plates in Coloured Lithography, with Plans, Wood- 
cuts, and explanatory Text, Sec 41. 4«. London. Hogarth, 18 17. 


LEM ; with restored Plans of the Temple, and with Plans, Sections, and I>ctails of 
the Church built by Cooatantine the Great over the Holy Sepulchre, now known as 
the Mosque of Omar. 16t., or 2ls. half Russia. London. Weale, 1847. 

SALEM. An answer to 'The Edinburgh Review.* 2«. 6ci. London, Murray, I)<61 . 


Being the Subitanoe of Two Lectures delivered In the Royal Institution, Albemarle 
Street, on the 2lst February, 1862. and Srd March. 186S. Woodcuts. 8vo. 7s. 6d. 
London, Marray, 1866. 


FOUirrT WITH THK Rkxaiks sbckxtlt DnoovEBED. PlatM. 4to. 7s. 6d. Lon- 
don, Murr^. 1862. 

TION, with Hints for iu AppUcaUon to our National IMenoea. 12«. 6d. London. 
Weale, 1849. 

THE PERIL OF PORTSMOUTH. Fbknch Flebtb and English 
FuiiB. Plan. 8vo. 3t. London, Mumy, 1863. 

PORTSMOUTH PROTECTED : with Notes on Sebastopol and other 
Slegoi during the Present War. Plans. 8vo. 3s. London, Murray, 1856. 

GALLERY, and NATIONAL RECORD OFFICE; with SuggesUona for their 
ImpnmnenL Svo. Loodoo, Weale, 1869. 

loaoxw: runeasD bt wxluam clowu and soxa, irAinoBD street, akd chasoio cboob. 


Although the present work may in some respects bo considered as 
only a new edition of the * Handbook of Architecture/ still the alter- 
ations, both in substance and in form, have been so extensive as to 
render the adoption of a new title almost indispensable. The topo- 
graphical arrangement, which was the basis of the 'Handbook,' has 
been abandoned, and a historical sequence introduced in its place. This 
has entirely altered the argument of the book, and, with the changes 
and additions which it has involved, has rendered it pmctically a new 
work; containing, it is true, all that was included in tlie previous 
publication, but with a great deal that is new, and little that retains 
its original form. 

llie logical reasons for these changes will be set forth in their 
proper place in the body of the work ; but meanwhile, as the Preface 
is that part of it which should properly include all personal explana- 
tions, I trust I may not be considered as laying myself open to a 
charge of egotism, if I avail myself of this conventional licence in 
explaining the steps by which this work attained its present form. 

It was my good fortune to be able to devote many years of my life 
to the study of Architecture — as a fine art — under singularly favourable 
circumstances : not only was I able to extend my personal observations 
to the examples found in almost all the countries between China and 
the Atlantic shore, but I lived familiarly among a people who were 
still practising their traditional art on the same principles as those 
which guided the architects of the middle ages in the production of 
similar but scarcely more beautiful or more original works. With these 
antecedents, I found myself in possession of a considerable amount 
of information r^arding buildings which had not previously been 
described, and — what I considered of more value — of an insight into 
the theory of the art, which was certainly even more novel. 

Believing this knowledge and these principles to be of sufficient 




importance to justify me in so doing, I resolvcnl on publishing a work 
in which they sliould be eml>odied ; and, in fui-theranco (^f this idea, 
sixteen years ago I wrote a book entitled 'The True l^rinciples of 
lieauty in Art.* The work was not — nor was it intended to be — 
popidar in its form. It was an attempt of a young author to do what 
he thought right and best, wdthout consulting the wishes of the 
public on the subject, and the first result, as might have been — and 
indeed was— anticipated, was that no publisher would undertake it. In 
consequence of this, only the first vohune was published, by Longmans 
in 1849, and that at my own expense and risk. Tlie event proveii 
tliat the booksellers were right. The book did not sell, and it became 
a question whether it was worth my while to waste my time and 
spend my money on a work which the public did not want, or whether 
it would not be wiser to abandon it, and wait for some more favour- 
able opportimity. Various circumstances of no public interest induced 
mo at the time to adopt the latter course, and I felt I could do so 
without any breach of faith, as the work, as then published, was com- 
plete in itself, though it had been intended to add two more volumes 
to the one already published. 

Some years afterwards a proposal was made to me by Mr. Murray 
to utilize the materials collected for the more ambitious work in the 
more popular form of a ITandl>ook of Architecture. The work was 
written in a verj' much more popular manner than that I had previously 
adopted, or than I then liked, or now think worthy of the subject ; but 
the result proved that it was a style much better suited to the public 
demand, for this time the work was successful. Since its publication 
in 1855 a largo number of coi)ies have been sold ; the work has now for 
some yeara been out of print, and a new edition is demanded. T'nder 
these circumstances the question arose, whether it would be better to 
republish the Handbook in its original form, with such additions and 
emendations as its arrangement admitted of, or whether it would not 
be better to revert to a form nearly approaching that adopted in the 
* True Principles,* rather than that followed in the composition of the 
Handbook, as one more worthy of the subject, and better capable of 
developing its importance. 

The immense advantages of the historical over the topographical 
method are too self-evident to require being pointed out, whenever the 
object is to give a general view of the whole of such a subject as 


that treated of in these volumes, or an attempt is made to trace the 
connexion of the various parts to one another. If the intention is only 
to describe particular styles or separate buildings, the topographical 
arrangement may be found more convenient; but where anything 
beyond this is attempted, the historical method is the only one which 
enables it to be done. Believing that the architectural public do 
now desire something more than mere dr}^ information vdih regard 
to the age and shape of buildings, it has been determined to remodel 
the work and to adopt the historical arrangement. 

In the present instance there does not seem to be the usual objection 
to such a rearrangement — that it would break the thread of continuity 
between the old and the new publication — inasmuch as, whichever 
method were adopted, the present work must practically be a new book. 
The mass of information obtained during the last ten years has been so 
great that even in the present volume a considerable portion of it has 
had to be rewritten, and a great deal added. In the second volume the 
alterations wiU be even more extensive. The publication of the great 
national work on Spanish antiquities,' of Parcerisa's * Beauties, &c., of 
Spain,' * and, above all, Mr. Street's work,' have rendered Spanish archi- 
tecture as intelligible as that of any other country, though ten years 
ago it was a mystery and a puzzle. Schultz's * work has rendered the 
same service for Southern Italy, while the publications of De Vogii^ * 
and Texier* will necessitate an entirely new treatment of tlie early 
history of Byzantine art. The French have been busily occupied 
during the last ten years in editing their national monuments, so have 
the Germans. So that in Europe little of importance remains to be 
described. In Asia, too, great progress has been made. Thotography 
has rendered us familiar with many buildings wo only knew before by 
description, and both the Hindoo and Mahometan remains of India are 
now genemlly accessible to the public. Colonel Yule's ' work on Burmah 
and M. Mouhot's * on Siam have made us acquainted with the form of 

* • MonumeDtoif Arquitoctonicos de Es- ' * * Syiie Contrale,* by Count M. De 
pafia.' Folio. Madrid, 1860, et seqq. I Vogiie. Paris. In course of publication. 

* Paroerisn, • Recnerdoe y Cellezas de * * Byzantine Architecture,* by Chcv. 

Eepafia.* Folio. Madrid. In course of 

Texier. London, 18G4. 

publicution. 10 vols, published. I ' * Mission to the Court of Ava in 1855,' 

' • Goiliic Architecture in Spain,' by j by Col. Yule. Quarto. London, 1858. 

G. E. Street. Murray. 1865. i ^ * Travels in Siam and Cambodia,' by 

* • Denkm'aler der Kunst dcs Mittel- Henri Mouhot. London : John Murray. 

alters in Uutcr Italicn,' by H. W. Schultz. ' 1864. 

Dresden, 1860. Quarto. Atlas, folio. 

h 2 



the buildings of those countries, and China too has been opened to the 
architectural student. When the Ilandbook was written there were 
many places and buildings regarding which no authentic information 
was available. That can liardly be said to be the case now as respects 
any really important building, and the time, therefore, seems to have 
arrived when their affiliation can be pointed out, if it ever can be, and 
the study of architecture may be raised frum dry details of measure- 
ments to the dignity of a historical science. 

In the present work it is intended that the two fiist volumes shall 
cover the same extent of ground as was comprised in the two volumes 
of the * Handbook,' as originally published, vnih such enlargement as is 
requisite to incorporate all recent additions to our knowledge ; and 
chapters will be added on Celtic — or, as they are vulgarly called, 
Druidical — remains omittod in the * Handbook.' The * History of 
Modem Architecture' will thus form the third volume of the work ; 
and when -if ever — it comes to be reprinted, it is intended to add 
a Glossary of architectural terms, and other matters necessary to com- 
plete the book. When all this is done, the work will be increased from 
1600 pages, which is the number comprised in the three volumes as at 
present published, to more than 2000 pages, and the illustrations will 
be augmented in at least an equal ratio.* Notwithstanding all this, it 
is too evident that even then the work can only be considered as an 
introduction to the subject, and it would require a work at least ten 
times as large to do full justice even to our present knowledge of the 
history of architecture. Any one at all familiar with the literature of 
the subject can see at once why this is so. Viollet Le Due, for 
instance, is now publishing a dictionary of French architecture from 
the eleventh to the sixteenth centurj^ The work will consist, when 
complete, of ten volumes, and probably 5000 illustrations. Yet even 
this will by no means exhaust the history of the style in one country 
of Europe during the five centuries indicated. It would require at 
least as many volumes to illustrate, even imperfectly, the architectural 
history of England during the same period. Germany would fill an 
equal number ; and the mediasval architecture of Italy and Spain could 
not be described in less space. 

' The number of ilhigtrations in the 
chapters of the Handbook oomprifled in 
tins Ist volume of the History was 441. 

They now stand at 536; and in the 
second volume the ratio of increase will 
probably be even greater. 


In other words, fifty volumes and 20,000 woodcuts would barely 
sufilce to complete what must in the present work be compressed into 
500 pages, with a like number of illustrations. 

Under tliese circumstances it will be easily understood that this 
book is far from pretending to be a complete or exhaustive history 
of the art. It is neither an atlas nor a gazetteer, but simply a general 
map of the architectural world, and — if I may be allowed the small 
joke — on Merca tor's projection. It might with propriety be called an 
abridgment, if there existed any larger history from which it could 
be supposed to be abridged. At one time I intended to designate it 
* An nistorical Introduction to the Study of Architecture, considered as 
a Fine Art ; ' but though such a title might describe correctly enough 
the general scope of the work, its length is objectionable, and, like 
every periphrasis, it is liable to misconstruction. 

The simple title of * History ' has therefore been adopted, under the 
impression that it is entitled to such a denomination until at least some 
narrative more worthy of the subject takes its place. Considering the 
limits it thus became necessary to impose on the extent of the work, it 
must be obvious that the great difficulty of its composition was in the 
first place to compress so vast a subject into so small a compass ; and 
next to determine what buildings to select for illustration, and what to 
reject. It would have been infinitely easier to explain what was neces- 
sary to be said, had the number of woodcuts been doubled. Had the 
text been increased in the same ratio a great many things might have 
been made clear to all, which will now, 1 fear, demand a certain amount 
of previous knowledge on the part of my readers. To have done this, 
however, would have defeated some of the great objects of the present 
publication, which is intended to convey a general view of the history 
and philosophy of the subject, without extending the work so as to 
make it inconveniently large, or increasing the price so as to render it 
inacessible to a large number of readers. The principle consequently 
that has been adopted in the selection of the illustrations is, first, that 
none of the really important typical specimens of the art shall be passed 
over without some such illustration as shall render them intelligible ; 
and, after this, those examples are chosen which are remarkable eitlier 
for their own intrinsic merit, or for their direct bearing in elucidation of 
the progress or affinities of the style under discussion ; all others being 

viii PREFACE. 

sternly rejected as irrelevant, notwithstanding the almost irresistible 
temptation at times to adorn my pages with fascinating illustrations. 
The reader who desires information not bearing on the general thread of 
the narrative must thus have recourse to monographs, or other special 
works, which alone can supply his wants in a satisfiictory manner. 

Even assuming that these principles have always been judiciously 
attended to — which I fear is not the case— this work must still from 
its very nature be far from complete. The most obvious want is that 
of a complete " Index of Buildings." The form which such a work 
should take appears to be something like the following scheme: — 1. 
The world should be divided into separate architectural provinces. 

2. All the buildings of sufficient importance in each province to justify 
their being named should be inserted in lists, and arranged either 
chronologically or alphabetically, or both — first one and then the other. 

3. To whichever of these lists is considered the principal there should 
be added, after the name of each building, — firstly, its date ; secondly, 
its dimensions ; thirdly, a short description of its more distinguishing 
peculiarities ; and, fourthly, a reference to all those works in which in- 
formation regarding it may be obtained. Each building would then 
occupy three or four lines, while the larger and most important might 
occupy from twelve to fifteen. 

It has been suggested to mo that such lists ought to be incorporated 
in the present work, but to this course there appear to be several 
objections. Firstly, it would increase the size of each volume by at 
least one-third. Secondly, without a great deal of repetition and 
indexing the lists could neither be so complete nor so easQy consulted 
as if printed separately. Thirdly, such insertions would entirely 
alter the scope and character of this History. 

The object for which such a compilation is required is not to fill up 
the gaps ill a narrative, but as a dictionary of reference to be con- 
sulted by the student, not only in reading such works as this, but 
special essays, monographs, and every class of work in which 
buildings may happen to be even incidentally mentioned. 

There is still another work, to the execution of which I have long 
looked forward, though whether I shall ever see it even attempted 
seems problematical. It is a New Parallel of Architecture. The only 
work of the sort which exists— except in so far as this one supplies its 


place — IB Diirand*8,' published in the fii*8t year of the present century ; 
but, as may be supposed from its date, singularly imperfect Gothic 
Architecture had hardly been discovered. The Byzantine was un- 
known. Except as it appeared in Spain, the Saracenic was a myth. 
So were all the Eastern styles. The Classic and modern Italian were 
then all in alL It need hardly be added that such a narrow view of 
the art has now become intolerable. The new form I would suggest 
for such a work would be 10 volumes, small folio, each containing at 
least 100 engraved plates, with a page of letterpress to each. The scale 
adopted should be double that used in the present work, — 50 feet to 
the inch, or one six-hundredth part (^ij^) of the real size for the plans, 
and 25 feet to 1 inch, or one three-hundredth (^i^a) of the real size 
for the sections and elevations. The division of the work might bo 
about the same as that adopted for this Ilistoiy, or 2 volimies for 
Ancient Art before the time of Constantine, 4 volumes for Christian 
Architecture from his epoch to that of Charles V. ; 2 volumes to the 
styles called Pagan in this work, and 2 to Modem Architecture. 

To such a work the present History would form a fitting and ap- 
propriate introduction, and such indeed is its proper and intended 

These three works together would form a corpus of Architectural 
literature which probably would at present suffice for general unprofes- 
sional purposes ; but even then the series would be incomplete without 
at least two additional volumes. The first to contain a popidar histoiy 
of " Military Architecture " in all ages and countries. Yiollet Le Due 
has just published a volmue on that of France during the middle ages, 
and a beautiful and interesting volume it is. But, to complete this 
work, it wants chapters on the military works of the Greeks and 
Itomans ; and now that the Bastion system hiis ceased to be practised, 

* Damiiil, • Recueil et Panillela dos E<li- 
fices de tout Genre/ &c. Parid, An. IX. 
Folio. The scale is Biuallcr than that 
adopted in tliis work, being about 125 feet 
to 1 inch for plans, or ^^, and twice that 
scale for elevations, or ^^ — instead oi ■ji'so 
and ^^ as adopted hero. 

3 An Introduclion was prefixed to the 
* True Principles of Beauty in Art,* con- 
taining a classification of human know- 
ledge, with esi)ecial reference to the 
essential distinction between Science and 

Art, and dtfiuing tlie bouudftry line be- 
tween the two. Of courjje no author is a 
judge of his own work, but, whether good 
or ba<l, 1 look with more afftction on this 
essay tiian on anything I ever wrote or 
am likely again to write. Stuiie years ago 
it was i-evised, partly rewritten, and eopietl 
out fair for the press. If it evtr is pub- 
lisheJ, it will be in a volnme by itself, and 
may be treated either as a sei>tirate work 
or as a geneml introduction to tlie whole 


its liistory may be written, and the principles on which it was con- 
structed should be explained. 

The other volume would contain a history of " Civil Engineering." 
The Bridges and Aqueducts of the Eomans and other nations have 
been incidentally mentioned in this work. But, in order to obtain a 
general view of the Building Art of the world, the history of the more 
utilitarian branches of the art ought to be completed and brought down 
to the present day when the engineers are surpassing the architects in 
the extent and solidity of their works, and occasionally treading on 
their heels, even in the art of design. 

Now that public attention is being turned to architectural subjects 
to a greater extent than at any time since the cinque-cento period, 
it seems hardly doubtful but that all these works will be undertaken. 
"Whether the time has quite arrived for their successful prosecution is 
not so clear, but it cannot be for oflF. The materials have already been 
collected, though they exist at present only in heterogeneous and fre- 
quently inaccessible forms. All that is wanted is that they should be 
selected and arranged so as to make them generally intelligible. This 
seems so desirable and so in accordance with the public wan t«, that it must, 
I conceive, before long be done. What part — if any — I may perform in 
the task depends on circumstances over which 1 have no control. 

It may tend to explain some things which appear open to remark in 
the following pages, if I allude here to a difference of opinion which 
has frequently been pointed out as existing between the views I have 
expressed and those generally received regarding several points of 
ancient history or ethnology. I always have been aware that this 
discrepancy exists; but it has appeared to me an almost inevitable 
consequence of the different modes of investigation pursued. Almost 
all those who have hitherto written on these subjects have derived 
their information from Greek and Boman written texts ; but, if I am 
not very much mistaken, these do not suffice. The classic authors were 
very imperfectly informed as to the history of the nations who preceded 
or surroimded them ; they knew very little of the archaeology of their 
own countries, and less of their ethnography. So long, therefore, as 
our researches are confmed to what they had written, many import- 
ant problems remain unsolved, and must ever remain as unsolvable 
M they have hitherto proved. 


My conviction is, that the lithic mode of investigation is not only 
capable of supplementing to a very great extent the deficiencies of 
the graphic method, and of yielding new and useful results, but 
that the information obtained by its means is much more trust- 
worthy than anything that can be elaborated from the books of that 
early age. It does not therefore terrify me in the least to be told that 
such men as Kiebuhr, CJomewall Lewis, or Grote, have arrived at 
conclusions different from those I have ventured to express in the 
following pages. Their information is derived wholly from what is 
written, and it does not seem ever to have occurred to them, or to any 
of our best scholars, that there was either history or ethnography 
built into the architectural remains of antiquity. 

\N hile they were looking steadily at one side of the shield, I fancy I 
have had a glimpse of the other. 

It has been the accident of my life — I do not claim it as a merit — 
that I have wandered all over the old world. I have seen much that 
they never saw, and I have had access to sources of information of 
which they do not suspect the existence. NVhile they were trying to 
reconcile what the Greek or Eoman authors said about nations who 
never wrote books, and with r^ard to whom they consequently had 
little information, I was trying to road the history which these very 
people had recorded in stone, in characters as clear and far more in- 
delible than those written in ink. If, consequently, wo arrived at 
different conclusions, it may i)0S8ibly be owing more to the sources 
from which the information is derived than to any difference between 
the individuals who announce it. 

Since the invention of printing, I am quite prepared to admit that 
the *Mitera scripta" may suffice. In an age like the present when 
nine-tenths of the population can read, and everj^ man who has any- 
thing to say rushes into print, or makes a speech which is printed next 
morning, every feeling and every information regarding a people may 
be dug out of its books. But it certainly was not so in the Middle Ages, 
nor in the early ages of Greek or Eoman history. Still less was this 
so in Egypt, nor is it the case in India, or in many other countries ; and 
to apply our English 19 th century experience to all these seems to me to 
be a mistake. In those countries and times, men who had a hankering 
after immortality were forced to buUd their aspii-ations into the walls 
of their tombs or of their temples. Those who had poetry in their 


souls, in nino cases out of ton, expressed it by the more familiar vehicle 
of sculpture or painting rather than in writing. To me it appears 
that to neglect these in trying to understand the manners and customs, 
or the history of an ancient people, is to throw a\vay one half, and 
generally the most valuable half, in some cases the whole, of the 
evidence bearing on the subject. So long as learned men persist in 
believing that all that can be known of the ancient world is to be 
found in their books, and resolutely ignore the evidence of archi- 
tecture and of art, we have little in common. I consequently feel 
neither abashed nor ashamed at being told that men of the most 
extensive book-learning have arrived at different conclusions from 
myself — on the contrary, if it should happen that we agreed in some 
point to which their ootemporary works did not extend, I should rather 
be inclined to suspect some mistake, and hesitate to put it down. 

There is one other point in which I fancy misconception exists, of 
a nature that may probably be more easily removed by personal expla- 
nation than by any other means. It is very generally objected to my 
writings, that I neither understand nor appreciate the beauties of 
Gothic architecture, and consequently criticise it with undue seve- 
rity. I regret that such a feeling should prevail, partly because it 
is prejudicial to the dissemination of the views I am anxious to promul- 
gate, but more because at a time when in this country the admiration 
of Gothic art is so nearly universal, it alienates from me the best class 
of men who love the art, and prevents their co-operating with me in 
the improvement of our architecture, which is the great object which 
we all have at heart. 

If I cannot now speak of Gothic Architecture with the same enthu- 
siasm as others, this certainly was not the case in the early part of my 
career as a student of art. Long after I turned my attention to the 
subject, I knew and believed in none but the mediaeval stylos, and was 
as much astonished as the most devoted admirer of Gothic Architecture 
could be, when any one suggested that any other forms could be compared 
with it If I did not learn to understand it then, it was not for want of 
earnest attention and study. 1 got so far Into its spiiit that I thought 
I saw then how better things could be done in Gothic art tlian had 
been done either in the middle ages or since ; and I think so now. But 
if it is to be done, it must be by free thought, not by sca*vile copying. 

My &ith in the exclusive pre-eminence c»f mediaival art was fii-st 

PREFACE. xiii 

shaken when I became familiar with the splendid remains of the Mogul 
and Pathan emperors of Agra and Delhi, and saw how many beauties of 
even the pointed style had been missed in Europe in the middle ages. 
My confidence was still further weakened when I saw what richness 
and variety the Hindoo had elaborated not only without pointed arches, 
but indeed without any arches at all. And I was cured when, after a 
personal inspection of the ruins of Thebes and Athens, I perceived that at 
least equal beauty could be obtained by processes diametrically opposed 
to those employed by the medieval architects. 

After so extended a survey, it was easy to perceive that beauty in 
architecture did not reside in pointed or in round arches, in bracket 
capitals or horizontal architraves, but in thoughtful appropriateness 
of design and intellectual elegance of detail. I became convinced that 
no form is in itself better than any other, and that in all instances 
those are best which are most appropriate to the purposes to which 
they are applied. 

So self-evident do these principles — which are the basis of the 
reasoning employed in this book — appear to me, that I feel convinced 
that there are very few indeed even of the most exclusive admirers of 
mediaeval art who would not admit them, if they had gone through the 
same course of education as has fallen to my lot. My own conviction is, 
that the great difference which seems to exist between my views and 
those of the parties opposed to them arises almost entirely from this 
accident of education. 

In addition to this, however, we must not overlook the fact that 
for three centuries all the architects in Europe concurred in believing 
that the whole of their art began and ended in copying classical forms 
and details. When a reaction came, it was not, unfortunately, in the 
direction of freedom ; but towards a more servile imitation of another 
style, which —whether better or worse in itself — was not a style of our 
age, nor suited to our wants or feelings. 

It is perhaps not to be wondered at that, after three centuries of 
perseverance in one particular groove, men should have ceased to have 
any faith in the possibility of reason or originality being employed in 
architectural design. As, however, I can adduce in favour of my 
views 3000 years of perfect success in all countries and under all 
circumstances, against 300 years of absolute failure in consequence of 
the copying system, though under circumstances the most favourable 


to miocess in other respects, there seems at least an a priori probability 
that I may be right, and that the copyists may be mistaken. 

I may be deceiving myself, but 1 cannot help fancying that I per- 
ceive signs of a reaction. Some men are becoming aware of the fiwjt 
that " Archaeology is not Architecture ;" and would willingly see some- 
thing done more reasonable than an attempt to reproduce the middle 
ages. The misfortune is, that their enlightenment is more apt to lead 
to despondency than to hope. " If," they ask, " we cannot find what 
we are looking for in our own national style, where are we to look 
for it?" The obvious answer, that it is to be found in the exercise 
of common sense, where all the rest of the world have found it, seems 
to them beside the mark. Architecture with most people is a mystery 
— something different from all other arts ; and they do not see that it 
is and must be subject to the same rules, and must be practised in the 
same manner, if it is to be successful. 

Whether the nation will or will not soon awaken to the importance 
of this prosaic anti-dimax, one thing at least seems certain and most 
hopeful. Men are not satisfied with what is doing ; a restless, inquir- 
ing spirit is abroad, and, if people can only be induced to think seriously 
about it, I feel convinced that they will be as much astonished at their 
present admiration of Gothic town-halls and Hyde Park Albert Memo- 
rials, as we are now at the Gothic fancies of Horace Walpole and the 
men of his day. 

It is with regret that I feel myself constrained by circumstances to 
publish the first volume without the second, since much that is suggested 
in the part now given to the public can only be made clear and intelli- 
gible on the appearance of the remaining chapters. The second volume 
is, however, in active preparation ; and so soon as the new woodcuts 
requisite for its illustration are sufficiently advanced, will be sent to 
press, and unless some very unforeseen accident occurs, it will certainly 
be ready for publication before next autumn. 



Although every possible care has been taken in selecting the best authorities 
for the statements in the text of the work, as well as the subjects for illustration, 
still no one acquainted with the state of the literature of architecture will need to 
be told that in many branches the materials do not exist for a correct description 
of the style, and that the drawings which arc available are frequently so inexact 
and with scales so carelessly applied, that it is impossible at times to avoid error. 
The plans throughout the book are on too small a scale to render any minute errors 
apparent, but being drawn to a uniform scale of 100 feet to 1 inch, or y^jg of the real 
size, they are quite sufficient as a means of comjiarison, even when not mathema- 
tically correct. They suffice to enable the reader to judge of the relative size of two 
buildings by a mere inspection of the plans, as correctly as he could by seeing the 
two buildings themselves, without actually measuring them in all their details. 

As a general rule, the sections or elevations of buildings, throughout the book, 
are drawn to a scale double that of the plans, viz., 50 feet to 1 inch, or ^ of the 
real dimensions ; but, owing to the great size of many of them, it has been found 
impossible to carry out this in all instances: where it has not been effected 
the departure from the rule is always noted, either below the woodcut or in the 

No lineal dimensions are quoted in the text except such as it is believed can be 
positively relied upon, and in all instances these are reduced to English feet. The 
superficial measures, like the plans, are quite sufficient for comparison, though not 
to be relied upon as absolutely correct. One great source of uncertainty as regards 
them is the difficulty of knowing at times what should be included in the building 
referred to. Should, for instance, the Lady Chapel at Ely be considered an integral 
part of the Cathedral, or the Chapter-house at Wells? Should the sacristies 
attached to Continental cathedrals be considered as })art of the church ? or such 
semi-detached towers as the south-westom one at Bourges ? What constitutes the 
temple at Kamac, and how much of this belongs to the Hypostyle Hall ? These 
and fifty other questions occur in almost every instance, which may lead two 
persons to very different conclusions regarding the superficial dimensions of a 
building, even without the errors inherent in imi)erfect materials. 

When either the drawing from which the woodcut is taken was without a 
scale, or the scale given could not l)e depended upon, " No scale " has been put 
under the cut, to warn the reader of the fact. When the woodcut was either too 
large for the page, or too small to be distinct if reduced to the usual scale, a scale 
of feet has been added under it, to show that it is an exception to the rule. 

Capitals, windows, and details which are meant to illustrate forms or con- 
struction, and not particular buildings, are drawn to any scale that seemed best 
to express the purpose for which they are inserted ; when they are remarkable for 
size, or as individual examples, a scale has been added ; but this is the exception, 
not the rule. 

Every pains has been taken to secure the greatest possible amount of acciuucy, 
and in all instances the sources from which the woodcuts have been taken are 
indicated. Many of the illustrations are from original drawings, and of buildings 
never before published. 







— V. CoNSTRUcnoN. — VI. Forms. — VII. Proportion. — 
Vm. Carved Ornament. — IX. Decx)rative Coi/>ur — 
X. Sculpture and Paintino. — XI. Uniformity. — XII. 
Imitation op Nature. — XIII. Ahsociation. — XIV. New 
Style. — XV. Prospects 11 


I. Introductory 42 

II. Turanian Races — Religion, Government, Morals, IJtcraturo, 

Arts, and Sciences 4.5 

III. Semitic Races — Religion, Government, Morals, Literature, 

Arts, and Sciences 53 

rV. Celtic Races — Religion, Government, Morals, Literature, Arts, 

and Sciencod 59 

V. Aryan Races — Religion, Government, Morals, Literature, Arts, 

and Sciences 64 

VL Conclusion 72 


Introductory 75 

Outline OF Egyptian Chronology 78 


CiLAP. Paok Chap. Pack 

I. Intboductort 79 Mammcisi — Tombs — Obelisks — 

ir. The Pyramids AND Contemporary Domestic Architecture 102 

Monuments— Tombs— Temples .. 85 V. Greek and Roman Period — De- 

m. F1B8T Theban Kingdom —Tlie clineof art — TtmipUs at Dendcra 

Labyrinth —Tombs — Shepherds . . 96 — Kalabsche — PhDre 120 

IV. Pharaonio Kingdom— Tliebes — VI. Ethiopia — Kingdom of Moroe 
Rock-cat Tombs and Temples — — Pyramids 127 





I. Intbodccttory 




II. Chaldean TESfPLEs l.V» 

m. AsBYKiAN Palaces — Wurka — 
Nineveh — Ximroud — Khorsabocl 
— Palace of Sennacherib, Koyunjik 
— Palace of Eaarhaddon — Temples 
and TomlM) 145 

rV. Persia — Porsepolis — Suaa — 
Passargailie — Fire Temples — 

V. Inventiox of the Arch 

VI. JuDEA — Temple of Jerusalem . . 

VII. AsL/k Minor — Historical notice 
— Tombs at Smyrna — Doganlu — 
Lycian tombs 200 



I. Greece — Historical notice — Pe- 
Iasi?ic art — Tomb of Atreus — 
Other remains 210 

II. Hellenic Greece — HisrroRT of 
THE Orders — Doric temples in 
Greece — Doric temples in Sicily — 
Ionic temples — Corinthian temples 

— Dimensions of Greek temples — 
Doric order — Ionic order — Co- 
rinthian order — Caryatides — Forms 
of temples — Mode of lighting 
temples — Temple of Diana at 
Ephesus — Municipal architecture 
Theatres — Tombs— Cyrene .. 219 


I. Etruria — Historical notice — 
Temples — l{oc*k-cut tombs— Tombs 
at Castel dAsso — Tumuli — The 
arch 255 

II. Rome — Introdcction 268 

III. Roman Architbcturk — Origin 
of style — The arch — Orders : 
Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, Com- 
posite — Temples — The Pantheon 
— Roman temples at Athens — at 
Baalbtc 271 

IV. Basilicas, Theatres, and Baths 

— Basilicas of Trajan and Maxentius 
— Provincial basilicas —Theatre at 
Orange — Colosseum — Provincial 
amphitheatres— Batlis of Diocletian 292 

V. Triumphal Arches, Tombs, and 
other BriLDiNGS —Arches at Rome ; 
in France — Arch at Treves — Pil- 
lars of Victory — Tombs — Minerva 
Medica — Provincial tombs — 
Eastern tombs — Domestic archi- 
tecture — Spahitro — Pompeii — 
Bridges — Aqueducts 31 1 




I. Introductory 351 

II. Wesisrn Romanesque Style — 
BaoUicas at Rome — Basilica of St 
Peler— St Paul** — Baailicas at 
BaTenna— Torcello 3.55 

III. Circular Romanesque Churches 
— Circular Churches — Tomb of 
Sta. Costanza — Churches at Pe> 
mgia, Nocera, Ravenna, Milan — 
Secular buildings 381 




Chap. Pagk 

I. Division of subject — Pointed 
arches — Provence — Churches at 
A\vignon, Aries, Alet, Foutifroitle, 
Miiguelone, Vienne — Circular 
churches — Towers — Cloisters .. 394 

II. Aqitfania — ChiuTchea at Peri- 
geux, Souillac, Angoulcme, Alby, 
Toulouse, Comjues, Tours —Tombs 418 

III. Axjou — Cathedral at Angers — 
Cliurch at Fontevrault — Poitiers 

— Spires 434 

IV. AuvERGNE — Church at Issoire 

— Puy — Fortified Church at 
Royat 442 

V. Burgundy — Churcli at Aiuay — 
Cathedral at Puy — AblKjys of 
Toumus and Cluny — C itliedral of 
Autun — Church of St Menoux . . 447 

Chap. Pack 

VI. Fkankish Pkovince — Exceptional 
buihUiigs — Basse CEuvre, Beauvais 

— Dotoratiou 457 

VII. Normandy — Triapsal churches 

— Churches at Caen — Intersecting 
vaulting — Bayeux 462 

VIII. FrankishArchitecjture— His- 
torical notice — The pointed arch — 
Freemasonry — Mediaeval architects 472 

IX. French Gothic Cathedrals — 
Paris — Chartres — Kheinis — 
Amiens— Otlier Cathednds — liater 
style — St. Oueu's, Rouen . . . . 482 

X. Gothic details — Pillars — Win- 
dows — Circular windows — Bays 
— Vaults — Buttresses — Pinnacles 

— Spires — Decoration — Construc- 
Hon — Furniture of Churches — 
Domestic architectiu*e 512 


I. Historical noti<*e — Old Churches Ilall at Yprcs — Ix)uvain — Brus- 

— Cjathedral of Touniay — Antwerp sels — Domestic architecture . . . . 548 

— St. Jawjues at Li^ 530 , m. Holland — Churches — Civil 

II. Civil Architecture — Belfnes — and Domestic Buildings 555 


I. Introductoby — Historical notice 

— Circular churches — Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle — Nimeguen — Bonn .. .. 558 

II. Basilicas — Plan of St. Gall — 
Church at Reicbenau — Romain- 
Motier — (liranson — Church at 
Gemrodo — Treves — Hildetdieim 

— Cathedrals of Worms and Spires 

— Churches at Cologne — Other 
churches and chapels 5G2 

III. Circular Churches — Aix-la- 
Ciiapelle — Nimeguen — Fulda — 
Bonn — Cobom 594 

I V. DoMBemc Architecture — liorsch 

— Palaces on the Wartburg — Gehi- 
hausen — Houses — Windows .. 001 

V. Pointed Style in Germany — 
History of style — St. Gereon, Co- 
logne — Churches at Gclnhausen 

— Marburg — Cologne Cathedral 

— Friburg — Strasburg — St. Ste- 
phen's, Vienna — Xuremburg — 
Muldhausen — Erfurth 607 

VI. Circular Churches — Church 

• Furniture — Civil Architecture . . 030 

VII. Northern Germany — Brick 
Architecture — Churches at Lu- 
beck — in Brandenburg— in Ermen- 
land — Castle at IVIarienburg — 
Townhall at Brunswick . . G45 


I. Sweden — Norwav — Dcnniaik — Gothland — Round Churches — Wooden 

Churches ^^^ 

VOL. I. (' 



fhmlispiect. — KnfnJe or Colc^ie 
CnthfJnl, at il will aiifiear 

Vignrile i-, 7",-/,-;. ../r.— SKtm. 
of the |-,„llL,„„n, :h,.«mi; Ih- 

1-6. Dligram* (tediniml) .. 8-87 

7. Sntion of King's Chamber idJ of 

Pa^G^ in Great Pyramid .. 88 

8. Pjn^miJofSwain 9» 

S. Doorway in Tomb st the Pynmid* 91 

Sarcophagus of MyceriDiu .. .. 93 
SkMch Plan of Temple (Hot the 

Sphini 83 

Block Pho of tbe Labyrintb . . 98 
Chamben ia labyrinth . . 98 

ToDibatBeni Haaaa 99 

Pillnr at Beni Hasu 99 

Pillar from Beni Haaam . . 
Lotus Pier, Beni Hanan 

at Thebs . . . . 

I. Saclionof PalaceorThathainlll., 


. PlaD of Hypoatyle Hall at Kamac 
I. SectHNi of centra] |»rtioa of Hy- 

jm^tiii' Hull :lI Kanuic .. 
I. Cityaiitlri P.llar, from the Great 

Court at Uedinet-Habou . . 
I. SiLilliTimiilc of Kamnc ,. ,, 
<. Sisjlwuoii A lirfnliive .. .. 

I. Pillar, from Sadinp 

'. Plan and Seution of Rock-cut 

Tfiiiiili' M l|sirnt«jiil 
I. Mimmeiai at EJephantine .. 
t. Plan and Section of Tomb of 

Mtmrpthah at Tbebra .. .. 

1. Lateian olieli.k 

I. PaTilion at Mellnet-Habou 
I. ViewofPavilioualMeliiiM-lIaliDU 
>. £leTati(n of an Kgjplioii Houae .. 
\. PlmiorTernplfat ^rou,ApolloDa- 

pnlia MagDD 

i. Vi«<r or Tonipte at Edfou . . . . 
1. Ba^-raliefat Tell el Amania 
'. Fagailt of Temple at Denlera . . 
I. PiUar,£rMn the Portko at Pendeia 

*. Plan of Templet 

). Section of Temple at Kalabtche . . 

1. Vi™«l' Temple nr IT-il* ■■ - 

I. Flujiof T^miile »l l*hilie .. .. 

(. Pyramidi at Meroe 

I. Ui^pam of EleraEioa of Tpmple 


i. Plan ofTr;mi>leat Miigbtyr 

>. DiKgnm KleratioD of Biis . 

r. IMajn^m Plan of Bin Simroi 

t. TombofCyiua 

I. Plan of Tomb of CyiiB, Pa»- 

). Section of Tomb of Cyrua .. .. 
1. lb-pr«eolatioa ol' a Tempt', Koy- 


•. EClcration of a poiiion of the »- 

lemal Wall ol' Wuswiu, at Wurka 
t. PIkq of poi tkiQ of Wuisui . . 
I. Elevation of Wall nt Wurka .. 
>. North-Weat Faliira at Nimnpud .. 
i. PLuiofl'.il<ici.Mit Khorsibtl 
'. Temee Wall al Khoiwbad.. .. 
t. Plan of the lUace of Sarson, 


I. Kealomtion of Korthem Angle of 

l^laoe Ciiuit. Ktm™bui .. .. ' 
I. Restored Sectkinafprinci|in1 Roome 

. at Khonabnd 

1. Ealai^PbinoflhethieeptiMcipil 

llooms at Khonaliid 
i. Interior of a Yeiidi House at 

Bukra, in tlie Siii>r .. .. 
I. EiistiDa mnaiai of Propylaw nl 


I. Hall ofSouth-We>t Palaoe.. .. 
1. Central ralaitf, Knyunjik .. .. 
1. Viivi'tnPIit ^^liil. friini the Cenlnl 

Palace, Koyiinjik 

r. Pavilion from the Mulptures al 


J. A-.^n-iiiii T.'i"|>l.' (Kuith I'nlnce, 

). Bna-i-elief reprtsentiiig fflfade ol 
Aaiyrfan Palace 

). Exterior of a I'nlace, fiom n Bas- 
retieTat Ki'janjik 

I. Kii^'tTent (Korni 



Utxitioa orstylobate otTaafit 
Sfclioii of Sif lolMt« of Temple . . 
Sncnd Symbolic Tne of the A>- 


Obelisk of DiTuulam .. .. 
View fixim lop of Gi«it SUirs at. 


M.Ll.H l.i i\,lu.'of Xme. .. .. 
PropylsA (^Penrpold) ., .. 

f hLux of Dnrius 

?'a9iil« of PhIbc* of Dariiu iit 

Tomb of DuTua at N'skafa-i- 
RuAtAm^ reprcKDtiDg th« fflQaile 
of bii police lurmouuted Lj ■ 


1. Paloca of Xerui, PMMpolii 

. lieitoml Plan of Giat Hull of 

Xhim al I'cii*|ioIl'i 
.. Pillar of Wv>Wni 1*01 ti(0 .. .. 
:. KlUiof Soii)i.TnlVrtira .. ., 
'. Kstond Section of Hull of Xfn« 
I. Raloml EtevBtioo of Cipital at 

>. PlaoafPlatfaniiatPaaKiiigaiLc .. 
). Urratioo of PUtfom at Pus- 

. Khabah at Intakr 

1. ,>*lioiirfTolnliH!WUi«Pj™niJi 


I. VaultAl Dmin bontb the Soutli- 

titl I'aliuKat Nimiouil .. .. 
I. ArehaDerel Bahri .. .. 
I. Ai>cb of tliv ('lo3c:t Muiiu.i, Rome 
I. Ardiee ia the Pfnimidi Ht MeioS 
'. Dingiwn llan of Solomon iPalKe 
t. Diagram Sectiooa of the Home of 

the Tedan of Lebanon ., 
I. The TuliOiuadoliiiivJiiL; one half 

gvound plan and one half as 

I. South-)uutViewarilipTiilj#rDiL'1e, 
uiTiIoml bythi! Author 

.. Plan -iif Sitamun'e Ti-mple, >bov- 
Ing llie iliapoaition of tlw cliam- 

:. Plim of Ttmple at Jeriualem, » 

nbnilt bj Herod 

i. View of the Temple, fiom the 

ICiut, » it Kppeiued Ht the time 

. oftlieCniciriiioD 

I, Roof of me of the Compnitmenta 

oflheGate lluldah 

I. Elerntion of Tnniulua nt TantatBii 
i. Plan lUid Section of Cliiunber in 

Tumului at Taolalais .. .. 
'. S«:Uon (^ Tomb of Alfuttea .. 

I. Rock-cut. FrontiB|»ece at Doganlu 203 

I. L^ciaiiTomb 2M 

I. Kock-cut Ljcian Tomb .. .. -105 
. Rock-cut Lycian Tomb .. , , 20S 
:. Rock-cut Lf diD Tomb . . . . :;06 

''. louic Lyciuu Tooih 2u7 

:. tlsviilioa of the Monument and 

SectioD of the T»mb at Amiith iOS 
I. West View of tlie Acropolii R- 

stoiHl 210 

;. Sedlan and Pbin of Tomb of 

'. C«se of Pillar in fmnt of Tomb of 

Atmi.atMycen» 2U 

I, Gateoaf at Thoricui 215 

I. AixhatDelos 215 

I. Wall in Peloponnaui 216 

. OalewflJ at Asios 216 

:. tlooiinijstMi»«longbi ., .. 217 
1. Gate of Liona, Mrtetie .. ..217 
. PliinDrthf Aciopulisat AtUeua. . 2ID 
I. Capital in Temple nt h'aninc .. 220 
:. Temple at .Y.^aa l^■^tol^■J . . . 221 
. Ancient iVirijilliinn C"pihil .. 225 

i. Diagram of Doric comtructioD, ai 

u«din the EaU 226 

I. Temple at Drloa. Parthenon at 

Athena. Temple at Coijnth .. 237 

I. The Partheuon 230 

. Ionic order of Erechtheium at 

Athena 232 

:. Ionic order in Temple of Apollo at 

Buise 233 

i. Sectiunofbalfof the Ionic Capital 

at baasfc, taken through the 

'. Order of the Choiagic UoDumeut 

ofLpici»t« 23* 

p. Older of the Tower of Ibe Winda, 

Alhrna a35 

:. CaryatiJe Figuie in the Biitiah 

Muipum 23G 

. Caryatide tigure from the Erech- 
theium 231; 

:. TeLimoiiraat Agrigeiitum .. .. 237 
I. Small trmjile Rl ilhnmnUE . . .. 938 
I. Pla»DfT>'nipleurA[HiU<)ntBas)(E 23S 
. Plan of I'^irtliciinn nt AlliGiis .. 2.18 
;. I'lau of Great Temple at Agri- 

ge..tum 2:l8 

I. Section of llie Parthenon .. ,. 240 
.. I'ait Section, pnrt Elevation, of 

Great Temple at Agiigentum .. 240 
i. Plan of Temple of till** at Eleusii 242 
i. Section of Temple of Ctrea at 

Eleuais 3*-^ 

r. Plan of Temple of Jupiter Olym- 

piiu at Athena 243 

e 2 


t'UiiorKnchUieimn S43 | 

Si'lion of Kiwhtlirium .. .. 243 \ 

Vi-w'ifKndithnum Hii 

Ibvlom) I'Ud ef the Temple of 

HnnK at Kphrnii 243 , 

( 'Iirinij(ic Monunicnt of LyiicrnlM 217 ■ 
I'liuiofThei)tK.itD>»inTa»i» ..248 '. 
Vinr of the Maunoleum nt Holi- | 

ciniiUHtis, SI reAtni-nl b<f the 

Author 249 , 

rlim of the MnuRolcain at Knti- 

<«niaHiu, finm n Drawing by j 

the Author ._ 249 ■ 

I.ian Tomb nt Cniiliw 251 ' 

R«!k-cut luul Structure Tonibe at 

Cp-one 252 

TnmU >t Cf lene 253 ^ 

Plim mid Sc:lion of an Elnisoui 

Tfmple 258 

Tnmb> «t C.i<trl •I'AK.a .. .. S61 I 
Mo'.i1Jh>£9 from Tumbs at Caslel 

(I'Asao 261 

riiUionieguliniCal.'iMi Tomb .. 2G.') '■ 
SHtions ot Keiriilint Gnlrasii 'I'mnb Sii5 
Section of« Tomb St Otic. .. 2&4 
View of priiicipl Chamber in 

Flail of L'oi:umell>.Vulci .. .. 2*95 
ViewofCocumelKVulci ., .. 2B5 
Tomb of Arun-, Ali>anD . . . 266 

Aqu«luct nt TuHJulum .. .. 2tjT 

Dorio Order 274 

lonicOnler 275 

Corinlliian Order 27t) 

ComptMite Order 278 

Ci>rinthiui B»e, now fouad in 
Church of St. I'lsieJe in itome 2T8 

. Doric Araiite 279 

. View in Couri-janl of Pnloce at 

Spalatro 28i1 

, 'IVinpleofMaTnUltor -JSi 

, I'l^in of Maiinu CaiiN! at Kime* .. 283 
. ri.iuofTnnpleof Dinnsnt Ntmo) 283 
. Vkw of Ihe Interior of the Temple 

uF Diana at Mmei 2S4 

. rinnof PanlheonatRome .. .. 285 
. lliilflCleTatioii,hair8ectian,ofUie 

I'lntfania at Rome 2Bli 

. M-ui of Temple at Tiroli .. .. 2H7 
. i^'^torad Elevation of Temple at 

. rliin aod ElevatioD of temple in 

IJkicletlaii'i hilace at Siiab.tio 2B8 

, Uulna of the Tioipla of Ju^dter 
<!>ljnfiDa at AthcDa 289 

. riiin of tadl TempU at Baalbec SOO 

I. KU'vnIion of Small Temple at 

liiudhet 2 

I. PbinorTnj.'uraBaidliiiint liomc 2 
. l!e«toi-ed Section of TinjiHrsHii 
:. riaiior&i»liRiorM.<»uiiui 
>. Loiii;itudiiin1 Section of UaMli 

>■ I'illar ofMaientiai 
1. Plaiiofthellneil:!.- 

iinl Vie 

■( the I 

I. Internal View of llie 

I, rianof Hasilicaatfom 

I. PbnoftlieTliiintrrntth^ige . 

. View of Ihe Thmti-e nt Oraiige . 

!. Kleratinn aiul .SH-tion of part of 
the Khvbn Ampliithentre, lionii; 3" 

1. QiMirter-phui of the Keata aiul 
(|uartei'-plau of the lkE«nient of 
(he KUvian Ani[iliiiheitre -■ 3i 

I. Eli'Vation of Amjiliitheatre 

. 3l>5 

;. Iklha of Ciiocalin, aa reatoicd hj 

A. IMouet :«>8 

I. Arch nf Tinjnn nt Btneveiitum ■■ 311 

'. Ardinf Titus at Itome .. .. :SI2 

I. AichofSeptimiusSeTcnis .. .. .112 

I. Portent, AnJiiS at Aulun .. .. 313 

1. Plan of Porta Nigra at Titvea .. 314 

!. Viewof Ihe Porta Sigra at Ti*i-e* 314 

!. Itiiilgc at Qiamiu 315 

t. Columu at I'liwi 317 

I. Suj^wmJ Ca^iital of Column at 

Ciiiwi 317 

i. TonibofCiraliaMelellii .. -.316 
S. Culumh.-iriuin near the (iaie of 

l>t. Sebaitiui, liome :)20 

r. Section of Sepul<Hll« nt San Vilo 321 
). flection nn.1 Klevulion of Tomb of 

StA. Helena, Koniu 321 

). Thin of Miuen'ii Meli>« at Hume 323 

). .Sclionof .MineivaUediui .. .. 323 

f uf Mint 

a MeJicn 


. Iget, I 

r Ti«re 

I. Tomb at St. 
I. Monument i 
t. Khiune', I'd 
1. Section of Tomb nt Khaine . . 3 

I. Curinlhian Tomb, Petra .. .. :( 
■. Ilocl(-.:ut hilerior at Petra .. ..' :i 
I. Fafmlc of Herod's Tombs .. ., 3 
>. So-Billed "Toinb of ZnJiariah".. 3 
>. The so-called Tomb of Absalom .. 3 
.. Angle of Tomb of Abnilom .. 3 

!. PaptdeoftheTombsoftheJudgw 3 




PklMX of [>i«.-1«ti>ii at Sp>l>tni .. 



GolJ(n<l«te«iij»tSp8Utro . 



House of IVisi nt Frnnjieii . .. 



Aqueduct of Si^Tia 


AqwductofTaiingona .. ,. 


Bridge of Trajan, Alamta™, Spaii 



%)-p'»° v..« 



Fnmti^iece to I'l-rl //.—View of 

CologD« Cthelnl, u it viU ■!>- 

p«r when completed 



Pl«.ofChnrch«ll>iemUi .. . 


PlrniofChurxJiatAnnoumi .. 


Plan of Church nt Ibrim in N«bi» 


l'UnofB«Hlicn«lOrle»ii,ville . 


Plsn of the Church of San 

Clementi at Rome 


Plan of the origitud Buili<A o 


St. PeWr nt Rome 


BBsili^n of St. Peter, befhn iU 




View of the Interior of .^t. Paul' 

at Rome, before the fire .. .. 



Pl.llor3tfl. Mari»Jl.ggiDr« .. 


Vieur of M>. Haiia Mnggiore . . 


Section of Sla.Agne« 

Pl«nofSt.. Agnew 




PliHorSUi.Pii.leiHi.-inn .. .. 





CpitJofSlii. Pudenti«B« .. . 










Arche. in Chureh of Sm Apil 


P».t of ApM in S. Apoliinarc ii 

!. S. Apullinare io Ctase, Knrti 

1. Church nt Pnrenio in Iidia 

., Capital of 1'iHi.i- at Parmio . . 3 

t. PInnofChuichntToicello.. ., 3 

I. ApHofBuiJicnat Toicetio .. 3 

'. IVL]i[i-Viyof Oontlnntio* . .. S 

I. PlanoflhcTombofSUuCosKuiln, 

Home S 

I. Pl.iaofSuiStephMioRoloiido .. 3 
). PlanofSti. Angeli, Pcruglfl ,. 3 
I. SecttgoofKti, Angeli, Perups .. 3 
;. Phin of Baptistery at Nocem dei 

P"g»n' 3 

t. Section of Biptistcrj at Xoceni dei 

Piigwii 3 


Plan of St. Vit«Je, RnTeniia .. 3t 
Section of St. Vilile, naveaaa .. 31 
PInn of S. Lortnu nt Milan .. 3t 
Tomb orUnlla PInciJia, Ravennn 31 
CflpitAlof I'ilUis foi-miD^ [niiisljlc 

TiiuilJTheoilane'>TDmb,leaveiiufl 31 
t'lauDl'TDmbofTlwodoiiG .. Hi 
t^levnlianafTonibHifTbeadorie.. 31 
Piiluzo delle Tom, Turin .. .. Hi 
Diagram of tlie Architectural 

Uiriaiona of Kranre 3t 

Digram of Vnulting ,. .. .. 4< 
Diagiam ofdome pcudentirei .. 4( 
Section of Church nt Caroissone, 

with the outer aislea added in 

tJie 14th Century 41 

Porch of NoOe Dame do Dome, 

Avignon 41 

PoivhofSt.Tii)pliinie, Alia .. V 
ApH of Church ntAlet .. ..41 
Internnl Anijteof Apsest Alet .. 4( 
Eleration of half one Bar of the 

Hjitei-ior of 8t. Paul nui Tivii 

Chatenu< 41 

Half Imr of InUdor of St. Paul 

aui Tfoii Chatenui 4; 

Lougitudinal nnJ Ci-oss Section of 

Fonlifi'oidc Church 4: 

IWrwny ^iChuithnOIaguelone 41 
Plan of Cnlhednd, Vienna .. .. 41 
Plun of Chui-ch at Planes .. ..4: 

Tower at Puissalicon 4i 

Cliuivh atCruna .. 41 

CloLletat Pontifraidc ,. ..41 

300. CupitJik at Ckiiiler, Elne .. 41 
Plan of St. yronl, Pujigeui .. 41 
Part of Su front, Perigeux . , 41 
Interior of Church at Souillac .. 4; 
PlnnorCathedinliitAngoulrme.. f. 
Ouc Buy of Save, AngoiilCme .. 4i 
PInnofChurrhntBIoisaac .. .. 41 
Plan ol'Utthedral nt Alby .. .. 4! 
I'laii of Church of Coi.lelicia nt 

Tonlouw 4: 

Section ofChuivli of Cordelie™ .. 4i 
View of Angle of Church of Cor- 

d.'lier» a 

I'hui tif Cliuich of St. Sciuin, 

IWoUSI! 4' 

^KliunofthvChuiiJiofSt. Seraln 4: 
PUnofChun'hatConquea., .. 4: 
PlnnofSt. MulinatTouis .. 41 
PUnofCliuichofChnrrnus .. 41 
PlnnofSt. Beuigue, Dijon .. .. 41 
St. SeiTiiu, Toiilouse 4! 


St. Ebi, bfialioa 433 

Tomb mt SL Pkm, Tonloiue ..433 
PtBorCuhoinlalilDfen .. 435 
PUo of St. Trinity. Angtn .. 435 
Vs»» "f th* lnl*riorof Loehffl .. 436 
I'l-..': .'■(^..■.> «l Fonlinmult ,. 436 
V .'.■:< ' *l foattmalt .. 437 

EUvitioD of o« or thf Bajt of 
the Nne It Foolnimult .. ..437 

iuVlilF <ll LIIIIK^I of KoUc DUW 

ftll'Mlifrt 438 

riaaorCktliednlatPoitwn .. 439 
f'lBrT st Cnninlt 440 

I at Inoin .. 443 
^r : loobf^ look- 
ing EMt 443 

ElETiIion of Cheiet, Notn Dune 

du Port Ctermodt .. ., ,, 444 
Plan of OwFet, Kotra Dwae do 

!■ ■ I ■ 445 

l-'..,'ii.,..( I i,.i.i.riaoj«t .. .. 446 
tX-i.icofChuuli'.fAin.r.. .. 448 
anrtcr of Cathednl of Put ni 

V*l»j- 449 

Tieir of Interior of Abbe; it 

Touniiu 450 

PImof AbbejChimhataiui]' 451 
Vww in AUc at Aotim .. .. 453 
View in N.TI! »t Antun .. .. 453 
Sei-tion of Nuthei at VettUy .. 453 
Eut Kad, St. Unoai .. .. 454 

I i , '' .'.!■■■ ■ 455 

i': t!J .!■ .t -■■. il,..ii :■'. Ba»« <Eiit™, 

BeaaTui 458 

Eitemil ud Intemal riew of 

DuK(£uTre 459 

DccDTBtionorSt. Gte^KDi.. .. 4«0 
Secttoa of Kuteni portioa of 

Cburch of Mortier CD Der .. 461 
Triaiiul Church, nt Queique- 

viUe 462 

Plan of the Churdi of St. Steplwn. 

Ctoi 464 

Wntem Fat«dB of St. Stephen, 

Choi 465 

Section of Nare of St. Step^, 

Caen 466 

Dngnm of Vaulting 467 

Elevation ill' i:.nnjviilni?nt of Kara 

oC^t. f^I^plieij. i-,ic..i .. .. 467 
dini^rtmait, AUaje dei Damn, 

Caen 468 

East End of St Nirolai, Caen .. 469 
Nave.Bajeui 470 
PLiD of C'^ of Notn Dune, 

360. StrtioD of Side-akla, Cbtbedral of 

I^rii 4«S 

361. Eilenial Eleratioo, Cathtdnl of 

Pkrit 485 

362. PlanofCtiartiaCatheJnl.. .. 486 

363. Plan of lUieinu Cathedral .. ..487 

364. Plan of Amiens Cathedral .. ..487 

365. Vie. of the Fafvie of the Calbe- 

dmiatParli 488 

366. >"i..rti-W,:l V.M« of theCathednd 

367. BulUvHitOharlia 

368. Bultieaesat Bheims 

369. Bnv.l".\MH'i>fIltaiiijit Cathedral 

370. DMninr, South Transept, Beau- 

374. Udjr I hai-l. Aui 

378. PlanofCathedislat Buu.. 

1 of CatI 

i^il a1 

.. View in the Choir of Churil^ »ur 


!, Chevet, Pootigo; 

\. We>tFi«ntotSte.Maiiedel'Epine . 
t. Plan of Church of Si Oueu at 

>. Chucdi of St. Ouen at Bonen, 


i. Southern Poreh of St. Ouen at 

'. Diagram of Plane of Pillan 

1. Window, St. Martin, Pari!.. ,. . 

I. Window in Nate of Cathedral at 


I. Window in Choir of Calhedial at 


. Window at Rheimi 

!. Window at St. Ouen , 

I. Window at Chnrtrea 

.. Wk-1 WiiiiiiiH-, Oiaili'M .. .. . 
.. Ti».i<.:i.l Wiiirl.w Oi:.i(m .. , 
. West Window, Rheina .. .. . 
. West Wiudow, Et rem .. ., . 
:. Wat Window, St. Onen ,. 

. Lanlera, SI. Onen, Rouen ., 


4UT. OapiUls Bbnnu . . 

1. Cotbd.. 
. OapiUls 

. Kood-ScRO] from the Haddsioa at 

Tropes K 

I. HDuuitClunj 5: 

1. UowatTHeii 5; 

1. PorUl of the Docal Pakce at 

Niucj s: 

I. View of WMt-end of Church at 
Nivelltt 5: 

I. Pltuitrf'Calbedn] at Touimf .. b- 

t. SectKO of Cenlnl Portion of 
Church at Toiunaf, looking 
SoDlh b- 

i. Wot Front of Notre Dame de 
Uantrkht b- 

I. Spiiv of the Chapel of St. Saag, 
Brugea b- 

'. Window in Church at Villera, 

i. Plan of the CaUudnJ at Antwerp b^ 
t PkaofSt. Jaojues, Liigi .. .. &- 

). Belfry at Ghent 5< 

:. Ootb'^I at Tpra 51 

!. ToWD-hoU, Bruneli b! 

I. I^rt of the Biahop'a PaUce, Li^ 51 
1. JiBluclion of no omgtnnl pUo of a 

ManBfterf at St Uitll .. .. 51 
i. ?liii ofChoicb at KeidMiua .. St 
1. Eleiatino of Wtst Eiid of Church 

at Ktlithauu 61 

r. Plan of the Church of Bomain- 

Uotier bl 

). View of the Church of Romain- 

Mober 51 

I. Section of Church at GranBon .. 5( 
). Hull Lit lli(?L'liii7t:hal Gernrode.. 5t 
1. Vie- of Wot Eud of Church at 

Gemrodc 5t 

!. View of Weat EdJ of Abhcy of 

Coney 5' 

I. Plan of ori^nal Church at Tiirn 5' 
I. Plan of Hediaral Chuidi at 

Tfftrei 5: 

i. Walem Apee of Churchat Ti6t« 5: 
J. Earteni,\ir,r^,il'C)nirchatTi6iej 51 
r. Inlenial View of the Church at 

Hildeaheim f. 

I. Plan of Church at Hildeaheim .. S; 
(. PiMof CuUiwlialof Womis .. 51 
). One ll.iy orCalhfJiiJ At Woi-ms 5'; 
I, SideElemtionoflVurtinCathediil b', 
I. Plan ofH.eC'nthalrnUtSpiro .. b] 
I. Weiteni Apea of Cathedral at 

Hayeoce , . 5i 

I. Church at Hiuden. Cathedral at 

Paderboni. Choivh at Socat . . 51 

i. Plan of Sla. Maria in Ctapitolio, 

Cali^ne . . b 

i. Apw of the Apoatles' Chunh at 

r. Apu of St. Hartin'a Churdi at 

Cologne 5: 

). Eait End of Church at Bonn .. 5 

I. Plannf Churnh at LaacJi .. .. 5i 
I. ViFw ofOhutcbnt I-atcb .. .. 5: 

1- Chun:)i at -tSiiuiig 51 

i. [tooJ Screen *t WecWIbnrg .. b 

i. CryptatCoUinBen » 

I. TaiflAi: of the Church at Roihdm 5: 
i. Church nt Marmoulier .. .. 5i 
1. Seclioo of doublB Chnrch of 

Schwarta Hheindorf .. 51 

f. Viewof.luLibleChui'chofSehifaiK 

Rheindorf SI 

I. Plan of Chapel at Undaberg . . b: 
}. tJectioD of Chapf 1 at Landiherg .. 5: 
). View and Plan of the Cathedral at 

I. Doorway at BaAie 5' 

!. Plan of the Church at Aii-la- 

Chapelle 5' 

t. Church at Nimfigtien 5 

k Church at Pcterabeig 5 

J. Plan of Church at Fulda .. ,. 5 

i. Plan of Church at DiOggelte .. 5 

!. [^niiWit^y; si \ii-\m 5' 

<. Chapel :it Cotvrn on the Mowlie 5' 

). i'orrh of CoDvenl at Loi-sch .. 61 

). Aiciiileuf tlie I'nlsiMatGeluhauien G' 

1. Oapilal, (idiihaiuen 6' 

i. VicwoftlippalilMontheWartburg 6 

). Cloister at Zurich 6 

1. iiwelliuK-hauK, Coinguc .. .. e 

i. Bnck Windowi <u Dwi^lling-houH, 
Cologne 6 

>. Windowa from Sion Church, 
Cologne 61 

!. Windowa from St. Guerin at 
NeuH (!' 

(. Section of St. Gerwm, Cologne .. 6 

!, Plan of St. Gereon, Cologne .. 8. 

). Ea>t lindofChuichatGcluhauitfii 6 


,1 SIju- 

:. Section of Church at Marbuig ., < 
:. PlanofChui-chat Alttnburg .. I 
. Plan of Cathedml at Col<^ne .. I 
< Intended Walein Pafade of Ca- 
thedral of Cologne I 

. View of the Church at Fribu^ .. I 

. Plan of Stiwbutj Cathedral ,. I 

. WeatFrontorCathediBUStnabui-g < 

'. Plan of Raliahon Cathedral.. .. I 




490. View of the Spire of St. Stephen's, 

Vienna 627 

491. Plan of the FiTmciscan Church at 

Salzburg G28 

492. Plan of St Laurence's Church, 

Nuremberg' 628 

493. Plan of the Church at Kuttenbert;, 

taken abore the roof of the aisles 629 

494. Section of the Church of St. Bar- 

bara, Kuttenberg 6:10 

495. Plan of Church at Xanten . . . . 632 

496. Plan of Maria Kiithe, Mulhausen 633 

497. View of Maria Kirche, Mulhausen 634 

498. St. Seveius Church at Erfurth .. 635 

499. Anna Chnpel at Heiligeuritadt .. 637 

500. Snci-amenis Haublein, Nuremberg 638 

501. Doorway of Church at Chemnitz 639 

502. Schoue Bnuinen at Nui-emberg .. 641 

503. ToJteuleuchtcr, Vienna . . . . 642 

504. Bay Wimlow from St. SebalJ, 

Nuremberg 643 

505. Facade of House at Bruck-an-der- 

Mur 644 

506. Plan of Cathedml, Lubeck . . . . 646 

507. Plan of Church of St. Mary, 

Lubeck 647 

508. View of Church of St. Mary, 

Lubeck 648 

509. Tower in the KcDbliugcr Strasse, 

Hanover 649 

510. Church at Fraueuburg .. .. 650 

Ka rAOB 

511. Church at San toppen 651 

512. Fa9ade of Marien Kirche, Branden- 
burg 651 

513. Fa^iide of the Knight-hall in the 
Castle of Mai-ienburg .. .. 652 

514. Town-hall at Brunswick .. .. 654 

515. Apse of Lund Cathedral .. .. 656 

516. Old Countiy Chui-ch and Belfry 657 

51 7. Plan of Cathedral of Trondhjem . . 658 

518. View of Cathedral of Trondhjem 659 

519. Plan of Church at Koesklide .. 660 

520. Elevation of l^oesklide Domkirche 660 

521. Frue Kirche, Aai-huu's 661 

522. Church of Kallundborg .. .. 662 
( 523. Holy Anders Church, Wisby .. 663 
I 524. Portal, Sandeo Chuich, Gothland 664 
I 525. Portal, Gerum Church, Gothland 665 

526. Folo Chui-ch, Gothland .. .. 66»3 

527. View of liound Church, Thoi-sji-^er 667 

528. ^'cction and Ground-plan of liound 

Ciiurch, Thoi-bager 668 

529. Iiound Chuith of Oster Lars, 
Bornholm 669 

530. ViewofHagby Church, Gothland 670 

531. Plan of Hagby Church .. ..670 

532. Laderbro Church and ^Wapenhus, 
Gothland 671 

533. PlanofChuixhat Hittenlal .. 672 

534. View of tlie Church at Hitteixlal 673 

535. Church of Umes, Norway .. .. 674 




vou I. 






Like every other object of human inquiry, Architecture may bo studied 
from two distinct points of view. Either it may be r^arded statically, 
and described scientifically as a thing existing, without anj reference to 
the manner in which it was invented ; or it may be treated historically, 
tracing every form from its origin, and noting the influence one style 
has had upon another in the progress of time. 

The first of these methods is more technical, and demands on the 
part of the student very considerable previous knowledge before it 
can bo successfully prosecuted. The other, besides being more popular 
and easily followed, has the advantage of separating the objects of 
study into natural groups, and tracing more readily their connexion 
and relation to one another. The great superiority, however, of this 
mode of study arises from the fact that, w^hen so treated. Architecture 
ceases to be a mere art, interesting only to the artist or his employer, 
but becomes one of the most important adjuncts of history, filling up 
many gaps in the written record, and giving life and reality to much 
that without its presence could with difficulty be realised. 

A still more important use of architecture, when followed as a 
history, is found in its ethnographic value. Every different race of men 
had their own peculiar use for the productions of this art, and their own 
mode of expressing their feelings or aspirations by its means, ^^'hen 
properly studied, it consequently affords a means as important as lan- 
guage for discriminating between the different races of mankind, — often 
more so, and one always more trustworthy and more easily understood. 

In consequence of these advantages, the historical mode is that which 
will be followed in this work. But before entering upon the narrative, 
it will bo well if a correct definition of what architecture really is can 
be obtained. Without some clear views on the technical position of the 
art, much that follows will be unintelligible, and its meaning may bo 

A great deal of the confusion of ideas existing on the subject of 
architecture arises from the fact, that writers have been in the habit 

B 2 


of speaking of Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture as three similar 
fine arts, practised on the same principles. This error arose in tlie 
16th century, when in a fiital hour piinters and scidptors undertook 
also the practice of architecture, and builders ceased to be architects. 
This confusion of ideas has been perpetuated to the present hour ; and 
much of the degraded position of the art at this day is owing to the 
mistake then made. It cannot therefore be too strongly insisted upon, 
that there is no essential connexion between painting and sculpture on 
the one hand and architecture on the other. 

The two former rank among what are called Phonetic arts. Their 
business is to express by colour or form ideas that could l)o— generally 
have been — expressed by words. With the I^^tians their hierogly- 
phical paintings were their only means of recording their ideas. With 
us such series of pictures as Hogarth's * Marriage a la Mode ' or ' The 
Rake's Progress ' are novels written with the brush ; and many of our 
mediiBval cathedrals possess whole Bibles carved in stone. Poetry* 
Painting, and Sculpture are three branches of one form of art, refined 
from Prose, Colour, and Carving, and form a group apart, interchanging 
ideas and modes of expression, but always dealing with the same class 
of ideas, and appealing to the same class of feelings. 

Distinct and separate from these I^honetic arts is another group* 
generally known as the Technic arts, comprising all those which minister 
to the primary wants of mankind under the various heads of food, 
clothing, and shelter. Like the first-named group, each of these, 
besides supplying the necessities of mankind, is capable of being so 
used as to afford him such gratification as can be obtained through 
the senses. Food, besides appeasing hunger, can by the science of 
gastronomy become to many a source of infinite enjo^Tuent. Clothing, 
with the fairer portion of mankind at least, becomes one of the more 
important of fine arts. And building, which in its primary application 
is merely a means of obtaining shelter, is capable of being refined into 
the fine art architecture, and as such, becomes and has always been 
considered the queen of this group of arts. This does not arise from there 
being anything essentially different in its essence, or in the mode in 
which it is practised or has been elaborated from its utilitarian primary, 
which distinguishes it from its humbler sisters. It attained this pre- 
eminence from its dimensions, its durability, and the lofty purposes to 
which it has been applied ; but it did so without ever losing sight of its 
original destination. The wigwam grew into a hut, the hut into a 
house, the house into a palace, and the palace into a temple, by well- 
defined and easily traced gradations ; but it never lost the original idea 
of a shelter, and in its most magnificent form it is a mere amplification 
of the original hut, but grown so solid that it seems designed to last 
for ever, and so well proportioned and so exquisitely ornamented that, 
iostoad of being one of the most commonplace, it ranks with ilie most 


beautiful productions of man*s hands. In none of its stages is imitation 
an clement of composition ; no true building ever was designed to look 
like anything in either the animal, vegetable, or mineral kingdoms. 
In all instances it is essentially a creation of man's mind, and designed 
to subierve some practical purpose which he has in view. A building 
can tell no story, and it is only by inference that it can be made to 
express an emotion. 

It is true that painting and sculpture may be addeil to a building 
to any extent, and a really perfect building is never without these 
adjuncts ; but they are not, or at least never should be, essentials, 
and the building should be always complete without them. All our 
cathedrals were so adorned in the middle ages, though in too many 
instances these ornaments have been swept away. Still the buildings 
remain complete in themselves as works of architecture, though as 
grand artistic compositions their value was no doubt doubled by the 
association : but this does not justify us in judging of the canvas by 
the same rules that we would apply to the picture that may be painted 
upon it, or of the marble by the figure that may be carved out of it. 

The fiict is that architecture is in its origin as essentially a useful 
art as weaving or sliipbuilding, but almost alone of all the sister arts it 
is the one that has, from various concurrent circumstances, been refined 
into a fine art. When inspired with so lofty an aim as that of providing 
a house or temple worthy of the Deity, it became one of the noblest and 
most beautiful of man's creations. Still it is essentially of human design 
in all its parts, and never strives to imitate nature, except in copying, 
so far as man's finite intelligence cjin do, those i)erfect principles of 
design which pervade every natural production, that is found wherever 
man 8 knowledge extends throughout the whole universe of God. 


Bearing these distinctions in mind, it may be possible to give a 
more definite answer than has usually been done, to questions which 
are frequently asked, but to which hitherto no satisfactory reply has 
been accorded in modem times. " What,'' it is frequently asked, " is the 
true definition of the word Architecture or of the Art to which it applies f " 
" What are the principles which ought to guide us in designing or criticising 
Architectural objects f" 

Fifty years ago the answers to these questions generally were, that 
architecture consisted in the closest possible imitation of the forms and 
orders employed by the Romans; that a church was well designed 
exactly in the proportion in which it resembled a heathen temple ; and 
that the merit of a civic building was to be measured by its imitation, 
more or less perfect, of some palace or amphitheatre of classic times. 

In the beginning of this century these answers were somewhat 



modified by the publioation of Stiiart*s works on Athens ; the word 
Grecian was substituted for Roman in all criticisms, and the few forms 
that remain to us of Grecian art were repeated ad natueam in buildings 
of the most heterogeneous class and character. 

At the present day churches have been entirely removed from the 
domain of classic art, and their merit is made to depend on their being 
correct reproductions of mediaeval designs. Museums and town-halls 
still adhere to classic forms, alternating between Greek and Roman ; 
and while in some of our public buildings an attempt is made to repro- 
duce the middle ages, in our palaces and clubhouses that compromise 
between classicality and common sense which is called Italian is gene- 
rally adhered to. These, it is evident, are the mere changing fashions of 
art. There is nothing real or essential in this Babel of styles, and we 
must go deeper below the surface to enable us to obtain a true definition 
of the art or of its purposes. Before attempting this, however, it is 
essential to bear in mind that two wholly different systems of architec- 
ture have been followed at different periods in the world's history. 

The first is that which prevailed since the art first dawned, in 
Egypt, in Greece, in Rome, in Asia, and in all Europe, during 
the middle ages, and generally in all countries of the world down to 
the time of the Reformation in the 1 6th century, and still predominates 
in remote comers of the globe wherever European civilization or its 
influences have not yet penetrated. The other being that which was 
introduced with the revival of classic literature contemporaneously 
with the reformation of religion, and still pervades all Europe, and 
wherever European influence has established itself. 

In the first period the art of architecture consisted in designing a 
building so as to be most suitable and convenient for the purposes 
required, in arranging the parts so as to produce the most stately and 
ornamental effect consistent with its uses, and in applying to it such 
ornament as should express and harmonise with the construction, and 
be appropriate to the purposes of the building ; while at the same time 
the architects took care that the ornament should bo the most elegant 
in itself which it was in their power to design. 

Following this system, not only the Egyptian, the Greek, and the 
Gothic architects, but even the indolent and half-civilized inhabitants 
of India, the stolid Tartars of lliibet and China, and the savage Mexi- 
cans, succeeded in erecting great and beautiful buildings. No race, 
however rude or remote, has failed, when working on this system, to 
produce buildings which are admired by all who behold them, and are 
well worthy of the most attentive consideration. Indeed it is almost 
impossible to indicate one single building in any part of the world, 
designed during the prevalence of this true form of art, which was not 
thought beautiful, not alone by those who erected it, or which does not 
a permanent object of admiration and of study for all future agea 

Pabt L definition OF ARCHITECTURE. 7 

The result of the other system is widely different from this. It has 
now been practised in Europe for more tiian three centuries, and by 
people who have more knowledge of architectural forms, more construc- 
tive skill, and more power of combining science and art in effecting a 
great object, than any people who ever existed before. Notwithstand- 
ing this, from the building of St. Peter's at Rome to that of our own 
Parliament Houses, not one building has been produced that is admitted 
to be entirely satisfsMstory, or which peimanently retains a hold on 
general admiration. Many are large and stately to an extent almost 
unknown before, and many are ornamented with a profuseness of which 
no previous examples exist ; but with all this, though they conform with 
the passing fsishions of the day, they soon become antiquated and out of 
date, and men wonder how such a style could ever have been thought 
beautifril, just as we wonder how any one could have admired the 
female costumes of the last century which captivated the hearts of our 

It does not require us to go very deeply into the philosophy of the 
subject to find out why this should be the case ; the fact simply being 
that no sham was ever permanently successful, either in morals or in 
(juVrt, and no falsehood ever remained long without being found out, or 
which, when detected, inevitably did not cease to please. It is literally 
impossible that we should reproduce either the circumstances or the 
feelings which gave rise to classical art, and made it a reality ; and 
though Gothic art was a thing of our country and of our own race, it 
belongs to a state of society so totally different from anything that now 
exists, that any attempt at reproduction now must at best be a masque- 
rade, and never can be a real or an earnest form of art. The designers 
of the Eglinton tournament carried the system to a perfectly legitimate 
conclusion when they sought to reproduce the costimies and warlike 
exercises of our ancestors ; and the pre-Raphaelite painters were equally 
justified in attempting to do in painting that which was done every 
day in architecture. Both attempts failed signally, because we had 
progressed in the arts of war and painting, and could easily detect the 
absurdity of these practices. It is in architecture alone of all the arts 
that the false system remains, and we do not yet perceive the impossi- 
bility of its leading to any satis&ctory result. 

Bearing all this in mind, let us try if wc can come to a clearer 
definition of what this art really is, and in what its merits consist. Let 
us suppose the Diagram (woodcut No. 1.) to represent a cotton-factory, 
a warehouse, or any very commonplace utilitaiian building. The first 
division, a, is not only the most prosaic form of building, but is bad 
building, as no attempt is made to strengthen the paits requiring it, 
and no more thought is bestowed upon it than if it were a garden wall 
or a street pavement* The second division, b, is better ; the arching 
of the upper windows binds together the weakest parts, and gives 



mass where it is mocit tKHnli.'d tu Tcnint tlie pressure or thnut of the roof; 
and tLo cttirjing down the piers between the windows gives strength 
where wantoil. lu this stage the building belongs to eivil engineer- 
ing, whieh may bo defined an the art of disposing the most suitable 
niaterLils in the most ecuiiomical but scientific manner to attain a given 
utilitarian end. In tlio tliird diviNiuu. c, this is carried stiU farther ; 
the materials are better disposed than in the IbM example, and even 
without the slight amount of ornament applied, it is a better example 
of engiuei-jing. The oniaiiieiit is not more than would be considered 
in some states of society indispensable for even the most utilitarian 
buildings. The cornice may be said to be required to protect the 
wall from wet ; the consoles to support it ; and the mouldings at 
tlio springing of the arch may bo insertions required for stability. 
In the prest'nt day, however, even this slight amount of ornament is 
almost siiflieient to take it out of the domain of useful art into that of 
architecture. Tho fourth division, t>, is certainly within the limita 
of the province of architcoturo ; and though it may be bad art, still 
tlie amount of ornament applied, all other things remaining the same, 
tnititlcH this <livision to rank as a work of tho fine art, architecture, 
'i'ho fifth division, K, carries tho advance still farther. In this instance 
nut only is u greater amount of ornament applied, but tho parts are 
wo diH])osed as in themselves to produce a more agreeable efieet ; and 
although the height uf the floors remains the same, and the amount of 
light introduced very nearly so, still the xlight grouping of tho parts is 

h M to produoo a butter class of architecture than could be done by 

mere application of any amount of ornament. 

If It is tdnittod that tho last division in tho diagram is an object 


of architecture, which the first is not, it follows from this analysis 
that architecture is nothing more or less than the art of ornamental and 
ornamented construction. 

Taking, for instance, the Parthenon, to illustrate this principle far- 
ther. The proportions of length to breadth, and of height to both 
these, are instances of carefully-studied ornamental construction ; and 
still more so is the arrangement of the porticos and the disposition of 
the peristyle. If all the pillars were plain square piers, and all the 
mouldings square and flat, still the Parthenon could not fedl, from the 
mere disposition of its parts, to be a pleasing and imposing building. 
So it is with a Gothic cathedral, llio proportion of length to breadth, 
the projection of the transepts, the different height of the central and 
side aisles, the disposition and proportion of the towers, are all instances 
of ornamental construction, and beautiful even if without ornament. 
Many of the older abbeys, especially those of the Cistercians, are as 
devoid of ornament as a modem bam ; but from the mere disposition 
of their parts they are always pleasing, and if large, are imposing 
objects of architecture. Stonehenge is an instance of ornamental con- 
struction wholly withoTit ornament, yet it is almost as imposing an 
architectural object as any of the same dimensions in any part of the 
world. It is, however, when ornament is added to this, and when that 
ornament is elegant itself, and appropriate to the construction and to 
the purposes of the building, that the temple or the cathedral ranks 
among the highest objects of the art, and becomes one of the noblest 
works of man. 

Even without ornamental construction, a building may, by mere 
dint of ornament, become an architectural object, though it is far more 
difficult to attain good architecture by this means, and in tme styles it 
has seldom been attempted. Still such a building as the town-hall at 
Louvain, which if stripped of its ornaments would be little bettor than 
a factory, by richness and appropriateness of ornament alone has 
become a very pleasing specimen of the art. In modem times it is too 
much the fatiiion to attempt to produce aix-hitectural effects not only 
without attending to ornamental construction, but often in defiance of, 
and in concealing that which exists. When this is done, the result 
must be bad art, but nevertheless it is arcliitccture, however execrable 

it may be. 

If these premises are correct, the art of the builder consists in 
merely heaping materials together, so as to attain the desired end in 
the speediest and readiest fashion. The art of the civil or military 
engineer consists in selecting the best and most appropriate materials 
for the object he has in view, and using these in the most scientific 
manner, so as to ensure an economical but satisfactory result. Where 
the engineer leaves off, the art of the architect begins. His object is 
to arrange the materials of the engineer, not so much with regard to 


economical as to artistic effects, and by light and shade, and outline, 
to produce a form that in itself shall be permanently beautiful He 
then adds ornament, which by its meaning doubles the effect of the 
disposition he has just made, and by its el^ance Ihrows a charm over 
the whole composition. 

Viewed in this light, it is evident that there are no objects that 
are usually delegated to the civil engineer which may not be brought 
within the province of the architect. A bridge, an aqueduct, the 
embankment of a lake, or the pier of a harbour, are all as legitimate 
subjects for architectural ornament as a temple or a palace. They were 
all so treated by the Eomans, and in the middle ages, and are so treated 
up to the present day in the remote parts of India, and wherever true 
art prevails. 

It is not essential that the engineer should know anything of 
architecture, though it is certainly desirable he should do so ; but, on 
the other hand, it is indispensably necessary that the architect should 
understand construction. Without that knowledge he cannot design ; 
but it would be well if, in most instances, he could delegate the 
mechanical part of his task to the engineer, and so restrict himself 
entirely to the artistic arrangement and the ornamentation of his design. 
This division of labour is essential to success, and was always practised 
where art was a reality; and no great work should be undertaken 
without the union of the two. Perfect artistic and perfect mechanical 
skill can hardly be found combined in one person, but it is only by 
their joint assistance that a great work of architecture can be produced. 
A building may be said to bo an object of architectural art in the pro- 
portion in which the artistic or ornamental purposes are allowed to 
prevail over the mechanical ; and an object of engineering skill, where 
the utilitarian exigencies of the design are allowed to supersede the 
artistic. But it is nowhere possible to draw the line sharply between 
the two, nor is it desirable to do so. Architecture can never descend 
too low, nor need it ever be afraid of ornamenting too mean objects ; 
while, on the other hand, good engineering is absolutely indispensable 
to a satisfeictory architectural effect of any class. The one is the prose, 
the other is the poetry of the art of building. 





Although, for the reasons just given, it is intended to follow the 
historical mode of investigation almost exclusively in the following 
work, still a brief abstract of the technical principles of the art may 
render what follows more clear. It may materially assist the student, 
in judging of the various examples submitted to his criticism, if the 
elements of the art and the loading principles of design are first col- 
lected together and stated, though it must be as briefly as is consistent 
with clearness. 

II. — Mass. 

The first and most obvious element of architectural grandeur is 
size — a large edifice being always more imposing than a small one ; 
and when the art displayed in two buildings is equal, their effect is 
almost in the direct ratio of their dimensions. In other words, if one 
temple or church is twice or throe times as large as another, it is twice 
or three times as grand or as effective. The Temple of Theseus differs 
very little, except in dimensions, from the Parthenon, and, except in 
that respect, hardly differed at all from the Temple of Jupiter at Elis, 
but because of its smaller size it must rank lower than the greater 
examples. In our own country many of our smaller abbeys or parish 
churches display as great beauty of design or detail as our noblest 
cathedrals, but, from their dimensions alone, they are insignificant in 
comparison, and the traveller passes them by, while he stands awe- 
struck before the portals or under the vault of the larger edifices. 

The pyramids of Egypt, the topes of the Buddhists, the mounds 
of the Etruscans, depend almost wholly for their effect on their dimen- 
sions. The Romans understood to perfection the value of this element, 
and used it in its most unsophisticated simplicity to obtain the effect 
they desired. In the middle ages the architects not only aspired to 
the erection of colossal edifices, but they learnt how they might greatly 
increase the apparent dimensions of a building by a scientific disposition 
of the parts and a skilful arrangement of ornament, thereby making 
it look very much larger than it really was. It is in fact the most 
obvious and most certain, though it must be confessed perhaps the 
most vulgar, means of obtaining architectural grandeur ; but a true and 


perfect example can never be produced by dependence on this alone, 
and it is only when combined with beauty of projwrtion and elegance 
of ornament tliat perfection in architectural art is attained. 

III. — Stabilitv. 

Next to size the most important element is stability. By this is 
meant, not merely the strength required to support the roof or to resist 
the various thrusts and pressures, but that excess of strength over 
mere mechanical requirement which is necessary thoroughly to satisfy 
the mind, and to give to the building a monumental character, with an 
appearance that it could resist the shocks of time or the violence of 
man for ages yet to come. 

No people imderstood the value of this so well as the Egyptians. 
The form of the Pyramids is designed wholly with reference to sta- 
bility, and even the Ilypostyle Hall at Kamac excites admiration far 
more by its eternity and strength than by any other element of design. 
All utilitarian exigencies and many other obvious means of effect are 
sacrificed to this, and with such success that after 3000 years still 
enough remains to excite the admiration which even the most un- 
poetical spectators cannot withhold from its beauties. 

In a more refined style much of the beauty of the Parthenon arises 
from this cause. The area of each of the pillars of the Pantheon at Rome 
is under 20 ft., that of those of the Parthenon is over 33 ft, and, con- 
sidei-ing how much taller the former are than the latter, it may be said 
that the pillars at Athens are twice as massive as those of the Roman 
temple, yet the latter have sufficed not only for the mechauical, but for 
many points of artistic stability ; but the strength and solidity of the 
portico of the Parthenon, without taking into consideration its other 
points of sujxjriority, must always render it more beautiful than the 

The massiveness which the Normans and other early Gothic builders 
imparted to their edifices arose more from clumsiness and want of con- 
structive skill, than from design ; but, though arising from so ignoble 
a cause, its effect is always grand, and the rude Norman nave often 
surpasses in grandeur the airy and elegant choir which was afterwards 
added to it. In our own country no building is more entirely satis- 
fiictory than the nave at Winchester, where the widtli of the pillars 
exceeds that of the aisles, and the whole is Norman in outline, though 
Gothic in detail On the otlier hand, no building of its dimensions 
and beauty of detail can well be so unsatisfactory as the choir at 
Beauvais. Though it has stood the test of centuries, it looks so frail, 
recjuires so many props to keep it up, and is so evidently an over- 
strained exercise of mechaniciil cleverness, that though it may excite 
wonder as an architectural tour dej\yrce, it never can satisfy the mind 


of the tnie artist, or please to the same extent as loss ambitions 

Even when we descend to the lowest walks of architecture we find 
this principle prevailing. It would require an immense amount of 
design and good taste to make the thin walls and thinner i-oof of a 
brick and slated cottage look as picturesque or so well as one built 
of rubble-stone, or even with mud walls, and a thatched roof: the 
thickness and apparent solidity of the one will always be more satis- 
factory than the other. Here, as in most cases, necessity controls the 
architect ; but when fettered by no utilitarian exigencies, there is no 
safer or readier means of obtaining an effect than this, and when effect 
alone is sought it is almost impossible for an architect to err in giving 
too much solidity to his building. Size and stability are alone suffi- 
cient to produce grandeur in architectural design, and, where sublimity 
is aimed at, they are the two elements most essential to its production, 
and are indeed the two without which it cannot possibly be attained. 

IV. — Materials. 

Another very obvious mode of obtaining architectural effect is by 
the largeness or costliness of the materials employed. A terrace, or 
even a wall, if composed of large stones, is in itself an object of con- 
siderable grandeur, while one of the same lineal dimensions and of 
the same design, if composed of brick or rubble, may appear a very 
contemptible object 

Like all the more obvious means of architectural effect, the Egyp- 
tians seized on this and carried it to its utmost legitimate extent. All 
their buildings, as well as their colossi and obelisks, owe much of 
their grandeur to the magnitude of the materials employed in their 
construction. The works called Cyclopean found in Italy and Greece 
have no other element of grandeur than the size of the stones or rather 
masses of rock which the builders of that age were in the habit of 
using. In Jerusalem nothing was so much insisted upon by the old 
writers, or is so much admired now, as the largeness of the stones 
employed in the building of the Temple and its substructions. 

We can well believe how much value was attached to this when 
we find that in the neighbouring city of Baalbec stones were used of 
between 60 and 70 ft. in length, weighing as much as the tubes of the 
Britannia Bridge, for the mere bonding of a terrace wall. Even in a 
more refined style of architecture, a pillar, the shaft of which is of 
a single stone, or a lintel or architrave of one block, is always a 
grander and more beautiful object than if composed of a number of 
smaller parts. Among modem buildings, the poverty-stricken design 
of the church of St. Isaac de St. Petersburg is redeemed by the grandeur 
of its monolithic columns, whilst the beautiful design of the Madeleine 


at Paris is destroyed by the smallness of the materials in which it is 
expressed. It is easy to see that this arises from the same feeling 
to which massiveness and stability address themselves. It is the 
expression of giant power and the apparent eternity of duration 
which they convey; and in whatever form that may be presented 
to the human mind, it always produces a sentiment tending towards 
sublimity, which is the highest effect at which architecture or any 
other art can aim. 

The (rothic architects ignored this element of grandeur altogether, 
and sought to replace it by the display of constructive skiU in the 
employment of the smaller materials they used, but it is extremely 
questionable whether in so doing they did not miss one of the mast 
obvious and most important elements of architectural design. 

Besides this largeness there is another element in the mere material 
which is a cause of architectural effect ; it is that of value, though it is 
by no means so easy to point out why this should be the case. Still 
we all admire an ornament of pure gold more than one that is only 
silver gilt, though few can detect the difference. Persons will travel 
hundreds of miles to see a great diamond or wonderful pearl, who 
would not go as many yards to see paste models of them, though if the 
two were laid together on the table very few indeed could distinguish 
the real from the counterfeit. 

From something of the same feeling we admire a marble building 
more than one of stone, though the colour of the latter may be really 
more beautiful and the material at least as durable. In the same 
manner a stone edifice is preferred to one of brick, and brick to wood 
and plaster; but even these conditions may be reversed by the mere 
question of value. If a brick and a stone edifice stand close together, 
the design of both being equally appropriate to the material em- 
ployed, but if the bricks are so beautifully moulded, or made of such 
precious clay, or so carefully laid, that the brick edifice cost twice as 
much as the other, our judgment would be reversed, and we shoidd 
look with more respect and admiration on the artificial than on the 
natural material. From the same reason many elaborately carved 
wooden buildings, notwithstanding the smallness of their parts and 
their perishable nature, are more to be admired than larger and 
more monumental structures, and this merely in consequence of the 
evidence of labour and consequent cost that have been bestowed upon 

Irrespective of these considerations, many building materials are 
invaluable from their own intrinsic merits. Granite is one of the best 
known from its hardness and durability, marble from the exquisite 
poUih it takes, and for its colour, which for internal decoration is a 
that can hardly be over-estimated. Stone is valuable on 


account of the largeness of the blocks that can be obtained, and because 
it easily receives a polish sufficient for external purposes. Bricks are 
excellent for their cheapness and the facility with which they can be 
used, and they may also be moulded into foi-ms of great elegance, so 
that beauty may be easily attained ; but sublimity is nearly impossible 
in brickwork, without at least such dimensions as have rarely been 
accomplished by man. The smallness of the material is such a manifest 
incongruity with the largeness of the parts, that even the Homans though 
they tried hard could never quite overcome the difficulty. 

Plaster is another artificial material. £xcept in monumental erec- 
tions it is superior to stone for internal purposes, and always better than 
brick from the uniformity and smoothness of its surface, the facility 
with which it is moulded, and its capability of receiving painted or 
other decorations to any extent. 

Wood should be used externally only on the smallest and least 
monumental class of buildings, and even internally is generally infe- 
rior to plaster. It is dark in colour, liable to warp and split, and com- 
bustible, which are all serious objections to its use, except for flooring, 
doors, and such purposes as it is now generally applied to. 

Cast iron is another material rarely brought into use, though more 
precious than any of those above enumerated, and possessing more 
strength, though probably less durability. Where lightness combined 
with strength is required, it is invaluable, but though it can be moulded 
into any form of beauty that may be designed, it has hardly yet 
ever been used so as to allow of its architectural qualities being appre- 

All these materials are nearly equally good when used honestly 
each for the purpose for which it is best adapted ; they all become 
bad either when used for a purpose for which they are not appropriate, 
or when one material is used either in the place of, or to imitate 
another. Grandeur and sublimity can only be reached by the more 
durable and more massive class of materials, but beauty and elegance 
are attainable in all, and the range of architectural design is so exten- 
sive that it is absurd to limit it to one class either of natural or of 
artificial materials, or to attempt to proscribe the use of some, and 
to insist on that of others, for purposes to which they are manifestly 


V. — Construction. 

Construction has been shown to be the chief aim and object of the 
engineer ; with him it is all in all, and to construct scientifically and 
at the same time economically is the beginning and end of his endea- 
vours. It is fax otherwise with the architect Construction ought 
to be his handmaid, useful to assist him in carrying out his design. 


but never his mistrem, controlling bim in tbe execntion of tbat wbicb 
he woTild otherwise tbink expedient An architect ongbt always to 
allow himself such a margin of strength that be may disr^ard or play 
with bis construction, and in nine cases out of ten tbe money spent 
in obtaining this solidity will be more effective architecturally than 
twice tbe amount expended on ornament, however elegant or appro- 
priate tbat may be. 

So convinced were tbe Egj'ptians and Greeks of this principle, 
that they never used any other constructive expedient tban a perpen- 
dicular wall or prop, supporting a horizontal beam ; and half the 
satisfactory effect of their buildings arises from their adhering to tbis 
simple though expensive mode of construction. They were perfectly 
acr[uainted with tbe use of the arch and its properties, but they knew 
tbat its employment would introduce complexity and confusion into 
their designs, and therefore they wisely rejected it. Even to tbe 
present day tbe Hindus refuse to use the arch, though it has long 
been employed in their country by tbe Mahometans. As they quaintly 
express it, ** An arch never sleeps ;" and it is true tbat by its thrust 
and pressure it is always tending to tear a building to pieces; in 
spite of all counterpoises, whenever tbe smallest damage is done, it 
liastens the ruin of a building, which, if more simply constructed, 
might last for ages. 

The Romans were tbe first who introduced a more complicated 
style. They wanted larger and more complex buildings tban bad 
Ixjen before required, and they employed brick to a great extent even 
in their temples and most monumental buildings. They obtained 
both space and variety by these means, with comparatively little 
trouble or expense ; but we miss in all their works that repose and 
harmony which is the great charm that pervades the buildings of 
their predecessors. 

The Gothic architects went even beyond the Komans in tbis 
respect They prided themselves on their constructive skill, and 
paraded it on all occasions, and often to an extent very destructive 
of true architectural design. Tho lower storey of a French cathedral 
is generally very satisfactory ; the walls are thick and solid, and the 
buttresses, when not choked up with chapels, just sufficient for shadow 
and relief; but tbe architects of that country- were seized with a mania 
for clerestories of gigantic height, which should appear internally 
mere walls of painted glass divided by mullions. Tbis could only be 
effected either by encumbering the floor of the church with piers of 
inconvenient thickness or by a system of buttressing outside. The 
latter was tbe expedient adopted ; but notwithstanding the ingenuity 
with wbicb it was carried out, and the elegance of many of tbe forms 
and ornaments used, it was singularly destructive of true architectural 
effMat. It not only produces confusion of outline and a total want of 

PartH. construction. 17 

repoee, but it is eminently suggestive of weakness, and one cannot help 
feeling that if one of these props were removed, the whole would 
tumble down like a house of cards. 

This was hardly ever the case in England : the less ambitious 
dimensions employed in this country enabled the architects to dis- 
pense in a great measure with those adjuncts, and when flying but- 
tresses are used, they look more as if employed to suggest the idea of 
perfect security than as necessary to stability. Owing to this cause 
the French have never been able to construct a satisfactory vault : in 
consequence of the weakness of theii* support,s they were forced to 
stilt, twist, and dome them to a most un pleasing extent, and to attend 
to constructive instead of artistic necessities. With the English archi- 
tects this never was the case ; they were always able to design their 
vaults in such forms as they thought would be most beautiful artistic- 
ally, and, owing to the greater solidity of their supports, to carry them 
out as at first designed.^ 

It was left for the Germans to carry this system to its acme of 
absurdity. Half the merit of the old Round arched Gothic cathe- 
drals on the Rhine consists in their solidity and the repose they dis- 
play in every part. Their walls and other essential parts are always 
in themselves sufficient to support the roofs and vaults, and no construc- 
tive contrivance is seen anywhere; but when the Germans adopted 
the pointed style, their builders — they cannot be called architects — 
seemed to think that the whole art consisted in supporting the widest 
possible vaults on the thinnest possible pillars, and in constructing the 
tallest windows with the most attenuated mullions. The consequence 
is, that though their constructive skill still excites the wonder of the 
mason or the engineer, the artist or the architect turns from the cold 
vaults and lean piers of their later cathedrals with a painful feeling of 
unsatisfied expectation, and wonders how such dimensions and such 
details should produce a result so utterly unsatisfectory. 

So many circumstances require to be taken into consideration, that 
it is impossible to prescribe any general rules in such a subject as this, 
but the following table will explain to a certain extent the ratio of the 
area to the points of support in sixteen of the principal buildings of 
the world.' As fer as it goes, it tends to prove that the satisfactory 
architectural effect of a building is nearly in the inverse ratio to the 
mechanical cleverness displayed in its construction. 

* It may be suggested that the glory of bad in itself because it enabled that art to 
a French clerestory filled with stained display its ch&rms with so much brilliancy. 

glass made up for all these defects, and it 
may be true that it did so ; but in that 
case the architecture was sacrificed to the 
sister ait of paiuting, and is not the less 

* The numbers in the table must be 
taken only as approximative, except the 
last four, which are borrowed from Gwilt's 
• Public Buildings of London.' 

VOL. I. C 





^**^ : inDHinulR 

Vulgar FractiaiUL 



Ilypostjrle HaII, Karnac 




, Oiie-half. 

Spires OUhednd 





Briargoi CiiUiednil 





Pairt}M.'non, A f Iwms 





Chartrai OiUiednd 


i 8,886 , 



Htduhary OObedml 





Piirus Vjtre Dune 




1 One^igfalh. 

ColrigiM; Cathedral 





Milan Cathedral 


7,376 i 
4,637 ' 



Vork Cathedral 


fk. Ouen, Bouen 


Temple of Peace 


Hi Pe*€Ti, Rome 





Hta. Maria, Florcnoe ... 





8t Paul'i, London 


14,311 i 



8te. Generiefe, Paris... 





At thn head of the list stands tho HA7K)style Hall, and next to 
it practically is the Parthenon, which being the only wooden-nwfed 
building in the list, its ratio of support in proportion to the work re- 
quired is nearly as great as that of the temple at Kamac. Spires only 
wants better details to be one of the grandest edifices in Europe, and 
Bourges, Paris, Chartres, and Salisbury are among the most satisfieustory 
Gothic cathedrals wo possess. St Ouen, notwithstanding all its beauty 
of detail and design, fails in this one point, and is certainly deficient 
in solidity. Cologne and Milan would both be very much improved 
by greater massiveness : at York the lightness of the supports is carried 
80 &r that it never can be completed with the vaulted roof originally 
designed, for the nave at least ; and the Temple of Peace is so clever a 
piece of engineering, that it must always have been a fidlure as an 
arohitectaiBl design. 

The last four buildings have quite sufficient strength for architeo- 
tml e&ct, but the value of this is lost from concealed construction, 
and beoauBB the supports are generally grouped into a few great masses, 
the dimenmons of which cannot bo estimated by the eye. A Gothic 
•xbhiteot would have divided these masses into twice or three times the 
iramber of the piers used in these churches, and by employing ornament 
to display and accentuate the construction, would have ren- 
boildings fiur more satisfactory than they are. 

In IUb respect the great art of the architect consists in obtaining 

Part IL FORMS. 19 

the greatest possible amount of unencumbered space internally, con- 
sistent in the first place with the requisite amount of permanent 
mechanical stability, and next with such an appearance of superfluity 
of strength as shall satisfy the mind that the building is perfectly 
secure and calculated to last for ages. 

VI. — ^FORMS. 

It is extremely difficult to lay down any general rules as to the 
forms best adapted to architectural purposes, as the value of a form 
in architecture depends wholly on the position in which it is placed, 
and the use to which it is applied. There is in consequence no pre- 
scribed form, however ugly it may appear at present, that may not 
one day be found to be the very best for a given purpose, and in like 
manner none of those most admired which may not become absolutely 
offensive when used in a manner for which they are unsuited. In 
itself no simple form seems to have any inherent value of its own, 
and it is only by combination one with another that they become 
effective. If, for instance, we take a series of twenty or thirty figures, 
placing a cube at one end as the most solid of angular, and a sphere 
at the other as the most perfect of round shapes, it would be easy to 
cut off the angles of the cube in successive gradations till it became a 
polygon of so many sides as to be nearly curvilinear. On the other 
hand by modifying the sphere through all the gradations of conic 
sections, it might meet the other series in the centre without there 
being any abrupt distinction between them. Such a series might be 
compared to the notes of a piano. We cannot say that any of the base 
or treble notes is in itself more beautiful than the others. It is only 
by a combination of several notes that harmony is produced, and gentle 
or brilliant melodies by their fading into one another, or by strongly 
marked contrasts. So it is with forms: the square and angular are 
expressive of strength and power ; curves of softness and elegance ; 
and beauty is produced by effective combination of the right-lined with 
the curvilinear. It is always thus in nature. Eocks and all the harder 
substances are rough and angular, and marked by strong contrasts and 
deep lines. Even among trees the oak is rugged, and its branches are 
at right angles to its stem, or to one another. The lines of the willow 
are rounded, and flowing. The forms of children and women are roimd 
and full, and free from violent contrasts; those of men are abrupt, 
hard, and angular in proportion to the vigour and strength of their 


Jn consequence of these jMX)perties, as a general rule the square or 
angular parts ought always to be placed below, where strength is 
wanted, and the rounded above. If, for instance, a tower is to be built, 
the lower storey should not only be square, but should be marked by 

c 2 


buttresses or other strong lines, and the masonry rusticated^ so as to 
convey even a greater appearance of strength. Above this, if the 
square form is still retained, it may be with more elegance and less 
accentuation. ITie form may then change to an octagon, that to a 
polygon of sixteen sides, and then be surmounted by a circular form 
of any sort. These conditions are not absolute, but the reverse ar- 
rangement would be manifestly absurd. A tower with a circular base 
and a square upper storey is what almost no art could render tolerable, 
while the other pleases by its innate fitness without any extraordinary 
effort of design. 

On the other hand, roimd pillars are more pleasing as supports 
for a square architrave, not so much from any inherent fitness for 
the purpose as from the effect of contrast, and flat friezes are preferable 
to curved ones of the late Roman styles from the same cause. The 
angular mouldings introduced among the circular shafts of a Gothic 
coupled pillar add immensely to the brilliancy of effect. Where 
everything is square and rugged, as in a Druidical trilithon, the 
effect may be sublime, but it cannot be elegant ; where everything is 
rounded, as in the Choragic Monument of Lysicrates, the perfection of 
elegance may be attained, but never sublimity. Perfection, as usual, 
lies between these extremes. 

yil. — Pbopoktion. 

The properties above enumerated may be characterised as the 
mechanical principles of design. Size, stability, construction, material, 
and many such, are elements at the command of the engineer or mason 
as well as of the architect, and a building remarkable for the^se properties 
only cannot be said to rise above the lowest grade of architectural 
excellence. They are invaluable adjuncts in the hands of the true 
artist, but ought never to be the principal elements of design. 

After these, the two most important resources at the command of 
the architect are proportion and ornament ; the former enabling him 
to construct ornamentally, the latter to ornament his construction; 
both require knowledge and thought, and can only be properly applied 
by one thoroughly imbued with the true principles of architectural 

As proportion, to be good, must be modified by every varying 
exigence of a design, it is of course impossible to lay down any general 
rules which shall hold good in all cases ; but a few of its principles 
are obvious enough, and can be defined so as to enable us to judge 
how far they have been successfully carried out in the various build- 
ingi enumerated in the following pages. 

To tidse first the simplest form of the proposition, let us suppose 
1milt» which shall be an exact cube—of say 20 feet each way — 


such a proportion must be bad and inartistic ; and besides, the height 
is too great for the other dimensions, apparently because it is impos- 
sible to get fer enough away to embrace the whole wall at one view, 
or to see the roofnsprings without throwing the head back and looking 
upwards. If the height were exaggerated to 30 or 40 feet, the dis- 
proportion would be so striking, that no art could render it agreeable. 
As a general rule, a room square in plan is never pleasing. It is 
always better that one side should be longer than the other, so as to 
give a little variety to the design. Once and a half the width has 
often been recommended, and with every increase of length an increase 
of height is not only allowable, but indispensable. Some such rule as 
the following seems to meet most cases : — ** The height of a room 
ought to be equal to half its width, plus the square root of its length." 
Thus a room 20 feet square ought to be between 14 and 15 feet high ; 
if its length be increased to 40 feet, its height must be at least 16^ ; 
if 100, certainly not less than 20. If we proceed further, and make 
the height actually exceed the width, the effect is that of making it 
look narrow. As a general rule, and especially in all extreme cases, 
by adding to one dimension, we take away in appearance from the 
others. Thus, if we take a room 20 feet wide, and 30 or 40 feet in 
height, we make it narrow ; if 40 wide and 20 high, we make a 
low room. By increasing the length, we diminish the other two 

This, however, is merely speaking of plain rooms with plain walls, 
and an architect may be forced to construct rooms of all sorts of 
unpleasing dimensions, but it is here that his art comes to his aid, 
and he must be very little of an artist if he cannot conceal, even when 
unable entirely to counteract, the defects of his dimensions. A room, 
for instance, that is a perfect cube of 20 feet may be made to look as 
low as one only 15 feet high, by using a strongly marked horizontal 
decoration, by breaking the wall into different heights, by marking 
strongly the horizontal proportions, and obliterating as far as possible 
all vertical lines. The reverse process will make a room only 10 feet 
high look as lofty as one of 15. 

Even the same wall-paper (if of strongly marked lines), if pasted on 
the sides of two rooms exactly similar in dimensions, but with the lines 
vertical in the one case, in the other horizontal, will alter the appa- 
rent dimensions of them by several feet. If a room is too high^ 
it is easy to correct this by carrying a bold cornice to the height 
required, and stopping there the vertical lines of the wall, and above 
this coving the roofi or using some device which shall mark a dis- 
tinction from the walls, and the defect may become a beauty. In like 
manner, if a room is too long for its other dimensions, this is easily 
remedied either by breaks in the walls where these can be obtained, 
or by screens of columns across its width, or by only breaking the 



height of the roof. Aoything which will divide the length into com- 
partments will effect this. The width, if in excess, is easily remedied 
by dividing it, as the Gothic architects did, into aisles. Thus a room 
50 feet wide and 30 high, may easily be restored to proportion by 
cutting off 10 or 12 feet on each side, and lowering the roofs of the side 
compartments, to say 20 feet. If great stability is not required, this 
can be done without encumbering the floor with many points of sup- 
port. The greater the number used the more easily the effect is 
obtained, but it can be done almost without them. 

Externally it is easier to remedy defects of proportion than it is 
internally. It is easier than on the inside to increase the apparent 
height by strongly marked vertical lines, or to bring it down by the 
emplo3nnent of an horizontal decoration. Turning, for instance, to the 
diagram No. 1 : if the two divisions c and d were on opposite sides of a 
street, and not in immediate juxtaposition, it would be diflcult to make 
any one believe that c was not taller than d, and that the windows in 
the latter were not farther apart and more squat than those in the 
first division ; and the effect might easily be increased. 

If the length of a building is too great, this is easily remedied by 
projections, or by breaking up the length into divisions. Thus, a a 
is a long building, but b b is a square one, or practically (owing to the 

perspective) less than a square in length, in 
any direction at right angles to the line of 
vision ; or, in other words, to a spectator at a' 
the building would look as if shorter in the 
direction of b b than in that of a a, owing to 
the largeness and importance of the part 
B nearest the eye. If 100 feet in length by 
50 feet high is a pleasing dimension for a 
certain design, and it is required that the 
building should be 500 feet long, it is only 
necessary to break it into five parts, and throw 
three back and two forward, or the contrary, and the proportion 
becomes as before. 

The Egyptians hardly studied the science of proportion at all: 
they gained their effects by simpler and more obvious means. The 
Greeks were masters in this as in everything else, but they used the 
resources of the art with extreme sobriety — externally at least — 
dreading to disturb that simplicity which is so essential to sublimity 
in architecture. But internally, where sublimity was not attainable 
with the dimensions they employed, they divided the cells of their 
temples into three aisles, and the height into two, by placing two 
ranges of columns one above the other. By these means they were 
enabled to use such a number of small parts as to increase the appa- 
rent size most considerably, and at the same time to give greater 








apparent magnitude to the statue, which was the principal object fur 
which the temple was erected. 

The Bomans do not seem to have troubled themselves with the 
science of proportion ; but during the middle ages we find, from first 
to last, the most earnest attention paid to it. Half the beauty of the 
buildings of that age is owing to the successful results to which the 
architects carried their experiments. 

The first great invention of the Gothic architects (though of Greek 
origin) was that of dividing the breadth of the building into three 
aisles, and making the central one higher and wider than those on 
each side. By this means height and length were obtained at the 
expense of width : this latter, however, is never a valuable property 
artistically, though it may be indispensable for the utilitarian exi- 
gences of the building. They next sought to increase still further the 
height of the central aisle by dividing its sides into three equal portions 
which by contrast added very much to the effect ; but 
the monotony of this arrangement was soon apparent : 
besides, it was perceived that the side aisles were so 
low as not to come into direct comparison with the 
central nave. To remedy this they gradually increased 
its dimensions, and at last hit on something very like 
the following proportion.s. They made the height of the 
side aisle half that of the central (the width being also 
in the same proportion) ; the remaining portions they | 
divided into three, making the triforium one-third, the 
clerestory two-thirds of the whole. Thus the three 
divisions are in the proportion of 1, 2, and 3, each giving 
value to the other, and the whole adding very consider- 
ably to all the apparent dimensions of the interior. It 
would have been easy to have carried the system further 
and by increasing the number of the pillars longitudi- 
nally, and the number of divisions vertically, to have 
added considerably to even this appearance of size ; but 
it would then have been at the expense of simplicity and 
grandeur; and though the building might have looked larger, the 
beauty of the design would have been destroyed. 

One of the most striking exemplifications of the perfection of the 
Gothic architects in this department of their art is shown in their 
employment of towers and spires. As a general rule, placing a tall 
building in juxtaposition with a low one exaggerates the height of the 
one and the lowness of the other ; and as it was by no means the 
object of the architects to sacrifice their churches for their towers, it 
required all their art to raise noble spires without doing this. In 
the best designs they effected it by bold buttresses below, and the 
moment the tower got free of the building, by changing it to an oota- 




No. 3. 


gon, and cutting it up by pinnacles, and lastly by changing its form 
into that of a spire, using generally smaller parts than are found in 
the church. By these devices they prevented the spire from com- 
peting in any way with the church. On the contrary, a spire or 
group of spires gave dignity and height to the whole design, without 
deducting from any of its dimensions. 

The city of l^aris contains an instructive exemplification of these 
doctrines — the fa9ade of the cathedral of Notre Dame (exclusive of 
the upper storey of the towers) and the Arc de VEtoile, being two 
buildings of exactly the same dimensions; yet any one who is not 
aware of this fact would certainly estimate the dimensions of the 
cathedral as at least a third, if not a half, in excess of the other. 
It may be said that the arch gains in sublimity and grandeur what it 
loses in apparent dimensions by the simplicity of its parts. The 
facade, though far from one of the best in France, is by no means 
deficient in grandeur ; and had it been as free from the trammels of 
utilitarianism as the arch, might easily have been made as simple and 
as grand, without losing its apparent size. In the other case, by 
emplo^dng in the arch the principles which the Gothic architects ela- 
boi'ated with such pains, the apparent dimensions might have been 
increased without detracting from its solidity, and it might thus have 
been rendered one of the sublimest buildings in the world. 

St. Peter's at Rome is an example of a total neglect of these prin- 
ciples. Its great nave is divided into only four bays, and the proportions 
and ornaments of these, borrowed generally from external architecture, 
are so gigantic that no one can realize the true dimensions of the 
church but by the study of the plan ; and it is not too much to assert, 
that had that cathedral been built in the Gothic style, during the 13th 
or 14th century, and of the same dimensions, it would have appeared 
as if from one- third to one-half larger, and have been the most sublime, 
whereas it is now only the largest temple ever erected. 

It would be easy to multiply examples to show to what perfection 
the science of proportion was carried during the existence of the true 
styles of architecture, and how satisfiawjtory the result is, even npon 
those who are not aware of the cause; and on the other hand, how 
miserable are the failures that residt either from the ignorance or 
neglect of its rules. Enough, it is hoped, has been said to show that 
not only are the apparent proportions of a building very much under 
the control of an architect independent of its lineal dimensions, bnt 
also that he has it in his power so to proportion every part as to give 
value to all those around it, thus producing that harmony which in 
architecture, as well as in music or in painting, is the very essence of 
a true or satisfactory utterance. 


VIII. — Carved Ornament. 

Architectural ornament is of two kinds, constructive and decorative. 
By the former is meant all those contrivances, such as capitals, brackets, 
vaulting shafts, and the like, which serve to explain or give expression 
to the construction ; by the latter, such as mouldings, frets, foliage, &c., 
which give grace and life either to the actual constructive forms, or to 
the constructive decoration. 

In mere building or engineering, the construction being all in all, 
it is left to tell its own tale in its own prosaic nakedness ; but in true 
architecture it is always subordinate, and possessing an excess of 
strength it need not show itself unless desired ; but even in an artistic 
point of view it always is expedient to express it. The vault, for 
instance, of a Gothic cathedral might just as easily spring from a 
bracket or a corbel as from a shaft, and in early experiments this was 
often tried ; but the eflfect was unsatisfactory, and a vaulting shaft was 
carried down to the capital of the pillar, and afterwards to the floor : 
by this means the eye was satisfied, the thin reed-like shafts being 
sufficient to explain that the vault rested on the solid ground, and 
an apparent propriety and stability were given to the whole. These 
shafts not being necessary constructively, the artist could make them 
of any form or size he thought most proper, and consequently, instead 
of one he generally used three small shafts tied together at various 
intervals. Afterwards merely a group of the graceful moulding was 
employed, which satisfied not only the exigencies of ornamental construc- 
tion, but became a real and essential decorative feature of the building. 

In like manner it was good architecture to use flying buttresses, 
even where they were not essential to stability. They explained ex- 
ternally that the building was vaulted, and that its thrusts were 
abutted and stability secured. The mistake in their employment was 
where they became so essential to security, that the constructive neces- 
sities controlled the artistic propriety of the design, and the architect 
found himself compelled to employ either a greater number, or buttresses 
of greater strength than he would have desired had he been able to 
dispense with them. 

The architecture of the Greeks was so simple, that they required 
few artifices to explain their construction ; but in their triglyphs, their 
mutules, the form of their cornices and other devices, they took pains 
to explain, not only that these parts had originally been of wood, but 
that the temple still retained its wooden roof. Had they ever adopted 
a vault, they would have employed a totally different system of decora- 
tion. Having no constructive use whatever, these parts were wholly 
under the control of the architects, and they consequently became the 
beautiful things we now so much admii'e. 

With their more complicated style the Homans introduced many 


new modes of constructive decoration. They were the first to em- 
ploy vaulting shafts. In all the great halls of their Baths, or of their 
vaulted Basilicas, they applied a Corinthian pillar as a vaulting shaft 
to the front of the pier from which the arch appears to spring, though 
the latter really supported the vault. All the pillars have now been 
removed, but without at all interfering with the stability of the vault ; 
they were mere decorative features to explain the construction, but 
indispensable for that purpose, llie Romans also suggested most of 
the other decorative inventions of the middle ages, but their architecture 
never reached beyond the stage of transition. It was left for the 
Gothic architects freely to elaborate this mode of architectural efiSact, 
and they carried it to an extent never dreamt of before ; but it is to 
thi8 that their buildings owe at least half the beauty they possess. 

The same system of course applies to dwelling-houses, and to the 
meanest objects of architectural art The string-course that marks exter- 
naUy the floor line of the different stories is as legitimate and indispens- 
able an ornament as a vaulting shaft, and it would also be well that 
the windows should be grouped so as to indicate the size of the rooms, 
and at least a plain space left where a partition wall abuts, or better stdU 
a pilaster or buttress, or line of some sort, ought to mark externally 
that feature of internal construction. 

The cornice is as indispensable a termination of the wall as the 
capital is of a pillar ; and suggests not only an appropriate support for 
the roofi but eaves to throw the rain off the wall. The same is true 
with r^ard to pediments or caps over windows : they suggest a means 
of protecting an opening from the wet ; and porches over doorways are 
equally obvious contrivances. Everything, in short, which is actually 
constructive, or which suggests what was or may be a constructive 
expedient, is a legitimate object of decoration, and affords the architect 
unlimited scope for the display of taste and skill, without going out of 
his way to seek it. 

The difficulty in applying ornaments borrowed from other styles 
is, that although they all suggest construction, it is not the construc- 
tion of the buildings to which they are applied. To use Pugin's clever 
antithesis, "they are constructed ornament, not ornamented construc- 
tion," and as such can never satisfy the mind. However beautifrQ in 
themselves, they are out of place, there is no real or apparent use for 
their being there; and in an art so essentially foimded on utilitarian 
principles and common sense as architecture is, any offence against con- 
•trootive propriety is utterly intolerable. 

The other class of decorative ornaments are forms invented for the 
piirpo0e, either mere lithic forms, or copied from the vegetable king- 
dom, and applied so as to give elegance or brilliancy to the constructive 
Jllpwpffitioii jasi described. 





llie first and moet obvioua of these are mere mouldrnga, known to 
architects 08 Scotiaa, Cavettoa, Ogeee, Tornses, Bolls, &c. — carves which, 
used in canons proporti<ms either bomontally or vertically, produce, 
when artistically combined, the most pleasing effect. 

In conjunction with these, it is usual to employ a purely conventional 
class of ornament, such as frets, scrolls, or those known as the bead and 
re@^ or egg and dart mouldings ; or in Gothic architecture the billet or 
dog-tooth or all the thousand and one forms that were invented during 
the middle ages. 

In certain stylea of art, vegetable forms are employed even more 
frequently than those last described. Among these, perhaps the most 
beantifhl and perfect ever invented was that known as the honey- 
suckle ornament, which the Greeks borrowed from the Assyrians, bnt 
made so peculiarly their own. It has all the conventional character of 
a purely lithic, with all the grace of a v^etable form ; and as used 
with the Ionic order, is more nearly perfect than any other known. 

The Bomans made a stop further towards a more direct imitation 
of nature in their emplc^ment of the acanthus lea£ As applied to 
a capital, or where the constructive form of the bell beneath it is 
still distinctly seen, it is unobjectionable ; but when the Ic&t supports 
the volute at the angles of the abacus, it 
is on the very verge of good tast«. 

With their disregard of precedent, and 
untrammelled wildnees of imagination, the 
Gothic architects tried every form of vege- 
table ornament, from the purest conven- 
tionalism, where the vegetable form can 
hardly be reot^nised, to the most literal 
imitation of nature. 

While oonfining himself to purely 
lithic forms, an architect can never sin 
against good taste, though he may miss 
many beauties; vrith the latter class of 
ornament he is always in danger of 
ofienoe, and few have ever employed it 
without foiling into mistakea In the 
first place, because it is impossible I 
imitate perfectly fo1i^i;e and flowers i 
stone ; and secondly, because if the pliant " 
forms of plants are made to support, or do 
the work o£, hard stone, the incongruity 

is immediately apparent, and the more perfect the imitation the greater 
the mistake. 

In the instance (woodcut No. 4), any amoimt of literal imitation 
that the sculptor thought proper may be indulged in, because in it the 



fftone cr/Dstmction is 00 apfparent cfrerywliefre, diat the Tc^taUe fimn is 
the merest supplement oonoeiTaUe ; or in a hollaw moulding round a 

doorway, a Tine may be scolptmed 
with any degree of imitation that can 
be employed; far as it has no more 
work to do than the object represented 
would have in the same situation, it is 
a mere adjunct, a statue of a plant 

. ■ _., placed in a niche, as we might use the 

V . statue of a man : but if in the woodcut 

rXo. b) imitations of real leaves were 
used to support the upper moulding, the effect would not be 00 satia- 
iactoiy ; imleed it is questionable if in both these last examples a little 
more conventionality would not be desirable. 

In too many ini^tances, even in the best Gothic architecture, the 
construction is so overlaid by imitative vegetable forms as to be con- 
cealed, and the work is ajiparently done by leaves or twigs, but in the 
earlifM and purest style this is almost never the case. As a general 
rule it may Ije asserted that the best lithic ornaments are those which 
apfimach nearest to the grace and pliancy of plants, and that the best 
vegetable forms are those which most resemble the r^ularity and sym- 
nwtry f/f such as are purely conventionaL 

Althr/ugli the Greeks in one or two instances employed human 
figures to support entablatures or beams, the good taste of such an 
arrang(;ment is more than questionable. They borrowed it, with 
the Ionic order, from the Assyrians, with whom the employment of 
caryatides and animal forms was the rule, not the exception, in contra- 
distinction from the Egyptians, who never adopted this practice.' Even 
the liomans avoided this mistake, and the Gothic architects also as a 
general rule kept quite clear of it. Whenever they did employ orna- 
mented figures for architectural purposes, they were either monsters, as 
in gargoyles, or griffons ; or sometimes in a spirit of caricature they 
used dwarfs or deformities of various sorts ; but their sculpture, pro- 
perly so called, was always provided with a niche or pedestal, where it 
might have lieen placed after the building was complete, or from which 
it might be removed without interfering with the architecture. 

IX. — Decorative Ck)LouR. 

Colour is one of the most invaluable elements placed at the com- 
mand of the architect to enable him to give grace or finish to his 
designs. From its nature it is of course only an accessory, or mere 


I The Iain-headed or Typhonian capitals cannot be quoted os an exception to this 
nile: th^ are affixes, and never appear to be doing the work of the pillar. 


ornament ; but there is nothing that enables him to express his mean- 
ing so cheaply and easily, and at the same time with such brilliancy 
and effect. For an interior it is absolutely indispensable; and no 
apartment can be said to be complete till it has received its finishing 
touches from the hand of the painter. Whether exteriors ought or 
ought not to be similarly treated admits of more doubt. 

Internally the architect has complete command of the situation ; 
he can suit his design to his colours, or his colours to his design. 
Walls, roof, floor, furniture, are all at his command, and he can shut 
out any discordant element that would interfere with the desired 

Externally this is seldom, if ever the case. A facade that looks 
brilliant and well in noonday sun may be utterly out of harmony with 
a cold gray sky, or with the warm glow of a setting sun full upon it ; 
and unless all other buildings and objects are toned into accordance 
with it, the effect can seldom be harmonious. 

There can be now no reasonable doubt that the Greeks painted 
their temples both internally and externally, but as a general rule 
they always placed them on heights where they could only be seen 
relieved against the sky ; and they could depend on an atmosphere of 
uniform, unvarying brightness. Had their temples been placed in 
groves or valleys, they would probably have given up the attempt, 
and certainly never would have ventured upon it in such a climate 
as ours. 

Except in such countries as Egypt and Greece, it must always be a 
mistake to apply colour by merely painting the surface of the building 
externally; but there are other modes of effecting this which are 
perfectly legitimate. Coloured ornaments may be inlaid in the stone 
of the wall without interfering with the construction, and so placed 
be far more effective and brilliant than the same ornaments would be 
if carved in relief. Again, string-courses and mouldings of various 
coloured stones or marbles might be employed with far better effect 
than can be obtained by depth of cutting and boldness of projection. 
Such a mode of decoration can only be partial ; if the whole building 
is to be coloured, it must be done constructively, or the effect will 
never be satisfiactory. 

In the middle ages the Italians carried this mode of decoration to a 
considerable extent; but in almost all instances it is so evidently 
a veneer overlying the construction that it fails to please; and a 
decoration which internally, where construction is of less importance, 
would excite general admiration, is without meaning on the outside 
of the same wall. 

At the same time it is easy to conceive how polychromy might be 
carried out successfully, if, for instance, a building were erected, the 
pUlars of which were of red granite or porphyr}', the cornices or string- 


oooTseB of dark coloured marblea, and the plain surfaces of lighter kinds. 
or even of stone. A design so carried out would be infinitely more 
effective than a similar one executed in materials of only one colour, 
and depending for relief only on varying shadows of daylight. There 
is in fact just the same difficulty in lighting monochromatic buildings 
as there is with sculpture. A coloured painting, on the other hand, 
requires merely sufficient light, and with that expresses its form and 
meaning f&T more clearly and easily than when only one colour is 
employed. The task, however, is difficult ; so much so, indeed, that 
there is hardly one single instance known of a complete polychromatic 
design being successfully carried out anywhere, though often attempted. 
The other mode of merely inlaying the ornaments in colour instead of 
relieving them by carving as seldom fiEiils. 

Notwithstanding this, an architect should never neglect to select 
the colour of his materials with reference to the situation in which his 
building is to stand. A red brick building may look remarkably well 
if nestling among green trees, while the same building would be 
hideous if situated on a sandy plain, and relieved only by the warm 
glow of a setting sun. A building of white stone or white brick is 
as inappropriate among the trees, and may look bright and cheerful 
in the other situation. 

In towns colours might be used of very great brilliancy, and if done 
constructively, there could be no greater improvement to our archi- 
tecture ; but its application is so difficult that it may be questioned 
whether it will be ever successfully accomplished. 

^Vith regard to interiors there can be no doubt. All architects in 
all countries of the world resorted to this expedient to harmonise and 
to give brilliancy to their compositions, and depended on it for their 
most important effects. 

The Gothic architects carried this a step further by the introduction 
of painted glass, which was a mode of colouring more brilliant than 
had been ever before attempted. This went beyond all previous 
efforts, inasmuch as it coloured not only the objects themselves, but 
also the light in which they were seen. So enamoured were they of 
its beauties, that they sacrificed much of the constructive propriety 
of their buildings to admit of its display, and paid more attention 
to it than to any other part of their designs. Perhaps they carried 
this predilection a little be3'ond the limits of good taste ; but colour 
is in itself so exquisite a thing, and so admirable a vehicle for the 
expression of architectural as well as of aasthetic beauty, that it is 
difficult to find fault even with the abuse of what is in its essence so 
legitimate and so beautiful. 



X. — Sculpture and Painting. 

Carved ornament and deoorative colour come within the especial 
province of the architect. In some styles, such as the Saracenic, and in 
many buildings, they form the Alpha and the Omega of the decoration. 
But one of the great merits of architecture as an art is that it affords 
room for the display of the works of the sculptor and the painter, not 
only in such a manner as not to interfere with its own decorative con- 
struction, but so as to add meaning and value to the whole. No Greek 
temple and no Gothic cathedral can indeed be said to be perfect or 
complete without these adjimcts; and one of the principal objects of 
the architects in Greece or in the middle ages was to design places and 
devise means by which these could be displayed to advantage, without 
interfering either with the construction or constructive decoration. 
This was perhaps effected more successfully in the Parthenon than in 
any other building we are acquainted with. The pediments at either 
end were noble frames for the exhibition of sculpture, and the metopes 
were equally appropriate for the purpose ; while the plain walls of the 
oella were admirably adapted for paintings below and for a sculptured 
frieze above. 

The deeply recessed portals of our Gothic cathedrals, their galleries, 
their niches and pinnacles, were equally appropriate for the exuberant 
display of this class of sculpture in a less refined or fastidious age ; 
while the muUion-framed windows were admirably adapted for the 
exhibition of a mode of coloured decoration, somewhat barbarous, it 
must be confessed, but wonderfully brilliant. 

It is one of the special privileges of architecture that she is able to 
attract to herself these phonetic arts, and one of the greatest merits a 
^uilding can possess is its affording appropi-iate places for their display 
without interfering in any way with the special department of the 
architect. But it is always necessary to distinguish carefully between 
what belongs to the province of each art separately. The work of the 
architect ought to be complete and perfect without cither sculpture or 
painting, and must be judged as if they were absent ; but he will not 
have been entirely successful unless he has provided the means by which 
the value of his design may be doubled by their introduction. It is only 
by the combination of the Phonetic element with the Technic that a 
perfect work of art has been produced, and that architecture can be said 
to have reached the highest point of perfection to which it can aspire. 

XL — Uniformity. 

Considerable confusion has been introduced into the reasoning on 
the subject of architectural uniformity from the assumption that the 
two great schools of art — the classical and the mediaeval — adopted 
contrary conclusions regarding it, formality being supposed to be the 



.-nu-^--7-'-^"3<-'-"' '-■^' ^^^ formor, irrejpilaritj' f»f tho latter. The Greeks, of 
.■viir^. ^'2.-:Ci building a t«,-mple or monument, which was only one room 
;,- .-Ofi ."C;t\.T» made it exa^-tly fi>Tn metrical in all its parts, but so did 
riv' ^Tviio architects when building a church or chafiel or hall, or any 
>t.'r:£'I':* vbjtvt : in ninety-nine insfcino.-s out of a hundre<l. a line drawn 
i.-wu :ho vvntre divides it into two equal and s>'mraetrical Iialves : and 
wh^^u an exception to this ocr.iirs. there is stfme obvious motive for it. 

l>ut where sevenil buildings of different classes were to be grouped, 
K^r I'ven two temples j»luc«l near one another, the Greeks took the 
utnKVt care to prevent their appearing jwrts of one design or one 
whv^le: and when, as in the instance of the Erechtheium.* three 
temples are placed together, no Gothic architect ever took such pains 
to secure for eacli its sejiarate individuality as the (irecian architect 
did. What has given rise to the i'rr(»r is, that all the smaller objects 
of Grecian art have perished, leaving us only the great monuments 
without their adjuncts. 

Tf wo can conceive the task assigned to a Grecian architect of 
erecting a building like one of our collegiate institutions, ho would 
without dfiubt have distinguished the chapel from the refectory', and 
that from the libran', and he would have made them of a totally 
different design from the principals h:>dge, or the chambers of the 
fellows and students ; but it is more tlian probable that, while can*fully 
distinppiishing rracli i>art from the other, he would liave arranged them 
with some regard tc^ symmetry, placing the chapel in the centre, the 
libraiy and refectory as i>endants to one another, though dissimilar, 
and the residences so as to connect and fill up the whole desigiL The 
tnith seems to Ixi that no great amount of dignity can be obtained 
without a certain degree of regularity ; and there can be little doubt 
that artistically it is Ixitter that mei-c utilitarian convenience should 
give way to the exigences of architectural design than that the latter 
should bo constrained to yield to the mere prosaic requirements of the 
building. 'J'ho chance-me<lley manner in which many such buildings 
were grouped together in the middle ages tells the story as clearly, 
and may be productive of gi-eat pictun^squeness of effect, but not of the 
same nobility as might have \xn.'n obtainal by more regularity. The 
highost class of design will never bo reached by these means. 

It is not difficult to discover, at least to a certain extent, that the 
cause of this is that no number of separate units will suffice to make one 
whole. A number of pebbles will not make a great stone, nor a number 
of rose-bushes an oak ; nor will any numlx>r of dwarfs make up a giant. 
To obtain a great whole there must be unity, to which all the parts 
must contribute, or they will remain separate particles. The effect 
of unity is materially heightened when to it is added unifonuity : the 

* Sco wmdcutfl further on. 


mind then instantly and easily grasps the whole, knows it to be one, 
and recognises the ruling idea that governed and moulded the whole 
together. It seems only to be by the introduction of uniformity that 
sufficient simplicity for greatness can be obtained, and the evidenco 
of design made so manifest that the mind is satisfied that the building 
is no mere accumulation of separate objects, but the production of a 

In a palace irregularity seems impardonable. The architect has 
there practically unlimited command of funds and of his arrangements, 
and ho can easily design his suites of rooms so as to produce any 
amount of uniformity he may require : the different heights of the 
different stories and the amount of ornament on them, with the 
employment of wings for offices, is sufficient to mark the various pur- 
poses of the various parts ; but where the system is carried so far in 
great public buildings, that great halls, libraries, committee-rooms, and 
subordinate residences are all squeezed into one perfectly uniform design, 
the building loses all meaning, and fails from the opposite error. 

The rule seems to be, that every building or every part of one 
ought most distinctly and clearly to express not only its constructive 
exigences, but also the uses for which it is destined ; on the other hand, 
that mere utility, in all instances where architectural effect is aimed 
at, ought to give way to artistic requirements ; and that an architect is 
consequently justified, in so far as his means will admit, in producing 
that amount of uniformity and regularity which seems indispensable 
for anything like grandeur of effect. In villas and small buildings 
all we look for is picturesqueness and meaning combined with ele- 
gance ; but in larger and more montunental erections we expect some- 
thing more ; and this can hardly be obtained without the introduction 
of some new clement which shall tell, in the first place, that artistic 
excellence was the ruling idea of the design, and in the next should 
give it that perfect balance and s^Tumetry which seems to be as 
inherent a quality of the works of nature as of true art. 

XI. — Imifatiox of Naturk. 

The subject of the imitation of Nature is one intimately connected 
with those mooted in the preceding paragraphs, and regarding which 
considerable misunderstanding seems to prevail. It is generally as- 
sumed that in architecture we ought to copy natural objects as we see 
them, whereas the truth seems to bo that we ought always to copy 
the processes, never the forms of Nature. The error apparently has 
arisen from confoimding together the imitative arts of painting and 
sculpture with the constructive art of architecture. The foimer have 
no other mode of expression than by copying, more or less literally, 
the forms of Nature ; the latter, as explained above, dei^entls wholly 

VOL. I. '* 



on a different claws of elementfl for its effect ; but at the same time no 
architect can either study too intently, or copy too cloeely, the methods 
and i»rooe«»eH by which Nature aooomplishes her ends ; and the most 
perfect Vjuilding will be that in which these have been most dosely 
and literally followed. 

To take one prominent instance: — So Car as we can judge, the 
hurnan Vxxly is the most perfect of Nature s works ; in it the ground- 
work or skeleton is never seen, and though it can hardly be said to be 
anywhere (concealed, it is only displayed at the joints or more promi- 
nent jKiints of support, where the action of the frame would be other- 
wise unintelligible, llie muscles are disposed not only where they 
an; inost useful, l>ut so as to form groups gracefully rounded in outline, 
llie softness and elegance of these are further aided by the deposition 
of adipose matter, and the whole is covered with a skin which with 
its beautiful texture conceals the more utilitarian construction of the 
internal (jarts. In the trunk of the body the viscera are disposed whcdly 
without symmetry or reference to beauty of any sort— the heart on one 
side, the liver on the other, and the other parts exactly in those 
positions and in those forms by which they may most directly and 
easily jxjrfonii the essential functions for which they are designed. 
Hut the whole is concealed in a perfectly symmetrical sheath of the 
most exquisitely beautiful outline. It may be safely asserted that a 
building is beautiful and perfect exactly in the ratio in which the same 
amount of concealment and the same amount of display of construction 
is preserved, where the same symmetry is shown as between the right 
and left sides of the human body — the same difference as between the 
legs and arms, where the parts are applied to different purposes, and 
where the same amount of ornament is added, to adorn without inter- 
fering with what is useful. In short, there is no principle involved 
in tln^ stnicture of man which may not be taken as the most absolute 
standard of excellence in architecture. 

It is in Nature's highest works tliat we find the symmetry of 
proportion most prominent When we descend to the lower type 
of animals we lose it to a great extent, and among trees and 
vegetables generally find it only in a fiir less degree, and some- 
times miss it altogether. In the mineral kingdom among rocks 
and stones it is altogether absent. So universal is this principle in 
Nature that we may safely apply it to our criticism on art, and say 
that a building is perfect as a whole in proportion to its motived 
regularity, and departs from the highest type in the ratio in which 
symmetrical arrangement is neglected. It may, however, be incorrect 
to say that an oak tree is a less perfect work of creation than a human 
being, but it is certain that it is lower in the scale of created being. 
So it may be said that a picturesque group of Gothic buildings may be 
it perfect as the stately r^ularify of an Egyptian or classic temple ; 


hut if it is 80, it is equally certain that it helongs to a lower and inferior 
class of desigQ. 

This analogy, however, we may leave for the present. The one 
point which it is indispensable to insist on here is, that man can pro- 
gress or tend towards success only by following the principles and 
copying, so fer as ho can understand them, the processes which Nature 
employs in her works ; but he can never succeed in anything by copying 
foi-ms without reference to principles. If we could find Nature making 
trees like stones, or animals like trees, or birds like fishes, or fishes like 
mammalia, or using any parts taken from one kingdom for purposes 
belonging to another, it would then bo perfectly legitimate for us to use 
man's statue as the modulus for a Doric, or woman's as that of an Ionic 
column — to build cathedrals like groves, and make windows like leaves, 
or to estimate their beauty by their resemblance to such objects ; but all 
such comparisons proceed on an entire mistake of what imitation of 
Nature really means. 

It is the merest and most absolute negation of reason to apply to one 
purpose things that were designed for another, or to imitate them 
when they have no appropriateness ; but it is our highest privilege to 
understand the processes of Nature. To apply these to our own wants 
and purposes is the noblest use of human intellect and the perfection 
of human wisdom. 

So instinctively, but so literally, has this correct process of imitating 
Nature been followed in all true styles of architecture, that we can 
always reason regarding them as we do with reference to natural objects, 
I'hus, if an architect finds in any quarter of the globe a Doric or Co- 
rinthian capital with a few traces of a foundation, he can at a glance tell 
the age of the temple or building to which it belonged. He knows who 
the people were who erected it, to what purpose it was dedicated, and 
proceeds at once to restore its porticos, and without much uncertainty 
can reproduce the whole fabria Or if he finds a few Gothic bases in 
situ, with a few mouldings or frusta of columns, by the same process he 
traces the age, the size, the purposes of the building before him. A 
Cuvier or an Owen can restore the form and predicate the habits of an 
extinct animal from a few fragments of bone, or even from a print of 
a foot. In the same manner an architect may, from a few fragmentw 
of a building, if of a true style of architecture, restore the whole of its 
piTstine forms, and with almost the same amount of certaint}'. This 
arises wholly because the architects of those days had correct ideas of 
what was meant by imitation 'of Nature. They added nothing to their 
buildings which was not essential ; there was no detail which had not 
its use, and no ornament which was not an elaboration or heightening 
of some essential part, and hence it is that a true building is as like tu 
a work of Nature as any production of man's hands can be to the 
creations of his Maker. 

♦ D 2 




There is one property inherent in the productions of architectural 
art, which, while it frequently lends to them half their charm, at the 
same time tends more than anything else to warp and distort our critical 
judgments regarding them. We seldom can look at a building of any 
age witliout associating witli it such historical memories as may cling 
to its walls ; and our predilections for any peculiar style of architecture 
are more often due to educational or devotional associations than by 
purely artistic judgments. A min must be singularly ignorant or 
strangely passionless who can stand among the fallen columns of a 
Grecian temple, or wander through the corridors of a Roman amphi- 
theatre, or the aisles of a ruined Gothic abbey, and not feel his heart 
stirred hy emotions of a totally different class from those suggested by 
the beauty of the mouldings or the artistic arrangement of the building 
he is contemplating. 

The enthusiasm which burst forth in the fifteenth century for the 
classical style of art, and then proved fatal to the Gothic, was not so 
much an architectural as a literary movement. It arose from the 
rediscovery — if it may be so called — of the poems of Homer and Virgil, 
of the histories of Thucydides and Tacitus, and of the philosophy of 
Aristotle and the eloquence of C/iccro. It was a vast reaction against 
the darkness and literary degradation of the middle ages, and carried 
the educated classes of Europe with it for the next three centuries. 
So long as classical literature only was taught in our schools, and 
clasHical models followed in our literature, classical architecture could 
alone bo tolerated in our buildings, and this generally without the least 
roforonoo either to its own peculiar beauties, or its appropriateness for 
the purpose to which it was applied. 

A second reaction has now taken place against this state of afi^iiu 
The revival of the rites and ceremonies of the mediaeval church, our 
reverent love of our own national antiquities, and our love and admira- 
tion for the rude but vigorous manhood of the middle ages, — all have 
combined to repress the classical element both in our literature and our 
art, and to exalt in their place Gothic feelings and Gothic art, to an 
extent which cannot be justified on any grounds of reasonable criticism. 

Unless the art-critic can free himself from the influence of these 
adventitious associations his judgments lose half their value ; but, on 
the other hand, to the historian of art they are of the utmost importance. 
It is because architecture so fully and so clearly expresses the feelings 
of the people who practised it that it became frequently a better vehicle 
of history than the written page ; and it is these very associations that 
give life and meaning to blocks of stone and mounds of brick, and 
bring BO vividly before our eyes the feelings and the aspimtions of the 
jkmg-forgotten past 


The importance of association in giving value to the objects of 
architectural art can hardly be oveiTated either by the student or 
historian. What has to be guarded against is that unreasoning enthu- 
siasm ivhich mistakes the shadow for the reality, and would force us 
to admire a rude piece of clumsy barbarism erected yesterday, and to 
which no history consequently attaches, because something like it was 
done in some long past age. Its reality, its antiquity, and its weather- 
stains may render its prototype extremely interesting, even if not 
beautiful ; while its copy is only an antiquarian toy, as ugly as it is 

XIII. — ^New Style. 

There is still one other point of view from which it is necessary to 
look at this c^eslion of architectural design before any just conclusion 
can be arrived at regarding it. It is in fact necessary to answer two 
questions, nearly as often asked as those proposed at the beginning of 
this Introduction. " Can we ever again have a new and original style 
of architecture ?" — ' Can any one invent a new style ?" Eeasoning from 
experience alone, it is easy to answer the>e questions. No individual 
has, so far as we know, ever invented a new style in any part of the 
world. No one can even be named who during the prevalence of a 
true style of art materially advanced its progress, or by his individual 
exertion did much to help it forward ; and we may safely answer, that 
as this has never happened before, it is hardly probable that it will 
over occur now. 

If this one question must be answered in the negative, the other 
may as certainly be answered in the affirmative, inasmuch as no nation 
in any age or in any part of the globe has failed to invent for itself a 
true and appropriate style of architecture whenever it chose to set 
about it in the right way, and there certainly can be no greiit difficulty 
in our doing now what has been so often done before, if we only set to 
work in a proper spirit, and are prepared to follow the same process 
which others have followed to obtain this result. 

What that process is, may perhaps be best explained by an example ; 
and as one of a building character, though totally distinct, let us take 

Let us take a scries of ships, beginning with those in which ^^ illiam 
the Conqueror invaded our shores, or the fleet with which Edward III. 
crossed over to France. Next take the vessels which transported 
Henry VIII. to his meeting with Francis L, and then pass on to the 
time of the Spanish Armada, and the sea fights of Van Tromp and 
De Kuyter, and on to the times of William III., and then through the 
familiar examples till we come to such ships as the Wellington and 
Marlborough of ycbterday, and the Warrior or Minotaur of to day. In 
all this long list of examples we have a gradual, steady, forward progress, 


without one check or break. Each century is in advance of the one 
before it, and the result is as near perfection as we can well conceive. 

But if wo ask who effected these improvements, or who invented any 
part of the last-named wonderful fabrics, we must search deep indeed 
into the annals of the navy to find out. But no one has inquired, and 
no one cares to know, for the simple reason that, like architecture 
in the middle ages, it is a true and living art, and the improvements 
were not effected by individuals, but by all classes, owners, sailors, 
shipwrights, and men of science, all working together through cen- 
turies, each lending the aid of his experience or of his reasoning. 

If we place alongside of this series of ships a list of churches or 
cathedrals, commencing with (^harlemagne and ending with Charles V., 
we find the same steady and assured progress obtained by the same 
identical means. In this instance, princes, priests, masons, and mathe- 
maticians, all worked steadily together for the whole period, striving 
to obtain a well-defined result. 

In the hhip the most siiitable materials only are employed in every 
part, and neither below nor aloft is there one single timber nor spar 
nor one rope which is superfluous. Nor in the cathedral was any 
material ever used that was not believed to be the most suitable for its 
purpose ; nor any form of construction adopted which did not seem the 
best to those who employed it ; nor any detail added which did not 
appear necessary for the purpose it was designed to express ; the result 
being, that we can look on and contemplate both with the same unmiti- 
gated satisfaction. 

The one point where this comparison seems to halt is, that ship- 
building never became a purely fine art, which architecture really is. 
The difference is only one of aim, which it would be as easy to apply 
to the one art as it has been to the other. Had architecture never 
progressed beyond its one strictly legitimate object of house-building, it 
never would have been more near a fine art than merchant ship-building, 
and palaces would only have been magnified dwelling-places. Castles 
and men-of-war advanced both one stage further towards a fine art. 
Size and power were impressed on both, and in this respect they stand 
precisely equal to one another. Here ship-building halted, and has not 
progressed beyond, while architecture has been invested with a higher 
aim. In all ages men have sought to erect houses more dignified and 
stately than those designed for their personal use. They attempted the 
erection of dwelling-places for their gods, or temples worthy of the 
worship of Supreme Beings ; and it was only when this strictly useful 
art threw a^ide all shadow of utilitarianism, and launched boldly forth 
in search of the beautiful and the sublime, that it became a truly fine 
art^ and took the elevated position which it now holds above all other 
usefdl arts. It would have been easy to supply the same motive to 
dup-bnildmg. If we could imagine any nation ever to construct ships 

Pabt II. NEW STYLE — 1'110S1»EC1>4. 39 

of God, or to worship on the bosom of the ocean, ships might easily 
be made such objects of beauty that the cathedral could hardly compete 
with them. 

It is not, however, only in architecture or in ship -building that this 
process is essential, for the progress of eveiy art and every science 
that is worthy of the name is owing to the same simple process of the 
aggregation of experiences ; whether we look to metallurgy or me- 
chanics, cotton-spinning or coining, their perfection is due to the 
same cause. So also the sciences — astronomy, chemistry, geology — are 
all cultivated by the same means. ^Vhen the art or science is new, 
great men stand forth and make great strides ; but when once it reaches 
maturity, and becomes the property of the nation, the individual is lost in 
the mass, and a thousand inferior brains follow out steadily and surely 
the path which the one great intellect has pointed out, but which no 
single mind, however great, could carry to its legitimate conclusion. 

So far as any reason or experience yet known can be applied to 
this subject, it seems clear that no art or science ever has been or can 
be now advanced by going backwards, and copying earlier forms, or 
those applicable to other times or other circumstances ; and that pro- 
gress towards perfection can only be obtained by the united eftbrts of 
many steadily pursuing a well-defined object. W herever this is done, 
success appears to be inevitable, or at all events every age is peifectly 
satisfied with its own productions. Where forward progress is the law, 
. it is certain that the next age will surpass the present ; but the living 
cannot conceive anything more perfect than what they are doing, or 
they would apply it. Everything in any true art is thoroughly up to the 
highest standard of its period, and instead of the dissatisfied uncertainty 
in which we are wandering in all matters concerning architectm-e, we 
should be exulting in our own productions, and proud in leaving to our 
poeteriiy the progress we have made, feeling assured that we have paved 
the way for them to advance to a still higher standard of perfection. 

As soon as the public are aware of the importance of this rule, and 
of its applicability to architecture, a new style must be the inevitable 
result; and if our civilization is what wo believe it to be, that style 
will not only be perfectly suited to all our wants and desires, but also 
more beautiful and more perfect than any that lias over existed before. 

XI V. — Prospeo rs. 

If we turn from these speculations to ask wliat prospect thei*e is of the 
public appreciating correctly this view of the matter, or setting earnestly 
about carrying it out, the answer can hardly be deemed satisfactory. 

The clergy, not only in England but on the continent of Euroi)e, 
have arrived at the conclusion that the Gothic style is the one most 
suited for church-building purposes ; and this has tiow become so 
established a point that no deviation from Gothic ukkIcIs is tolemted. 


Any architect who would attempt originality in plan, or introduce 
even a new detail or moulding, is immediately set down as ignorant 
of his profession, and the experiment is not repeated. Every year that 
we continue in this path, and that our knowledge of the style becomes 
greater, the heavier ^vill our chains become, and anything like ori- 
ginality or progress in this important branch of architecture more 
absolutely imix)ssible. 

The study of the classical languages, to which so much importance 
is attached in our public schools, and in our own and most foreign 
universities, tended at one time in another way to draw attention from 
the formation of a true style of architecture by fixing it exclusively on 
Greek and Roman models. The Renaissance in the 15th century, as 
pointed out above, arose much more from admiration of classic literature 
than from any feeling for the remains of buildings which had been 
neglected for centuries, and were far surpassed by those which succeeded 
them. The same feelings [Kirpetuated by early association are the great 
cause of the hold that classic art still has on the educated classes in Europe. 

In clubs and mixed societies the style usually adopted is the 
Italian, out of which progress may come if common sense be allowed 
to prevail over classical precedents, or the contrary if the reactionary 
element be allowe<l to obtain the preference. 

Below these there is another class of men who have but little sym- 
pathy with Greece or Rome, and still less with mediaival monasticism 
or feudalism, but who in their own strong sense seem inclined to take a 
more reasonable view of the matter, and these men are now erecting 
at Manchester and in other cities of the North a series of warehouses 
and other buildings designed wholly with reference to their uses, and 
ornamented only in their construction, and which consequently are — 
as far as their utilitiirian purposes will allow — as satisfactory as any- 
thing of former days. Eastward of Temple Bar there are many build- 
ings arising on the same system, and with a little more experience 
tliey promise to be as satisfactory as those in the North. 

In civil engineering, the lowest and most prosaic branch of archi- 
toctural art, our progress has been brilliant and rapid. Of this no 
better example can be given than the four great bridges erected over 
the Thames. Those of Westminster, Blackfriars, ^^ aterloo, and London 
were erected at nearly equal intervals during one century, and the 
steady progress which they exhibit is greater than that of almost any 
similar branch of art during any ecpial period of time. 

In this department our progress is so undeniable that we saw old 
London Bridge removed without regret, though it was a work of the 
same ago and of the same men who built all our greatest and best 
cathedrals, and in its own line was quite as perfect and as beautiful 
as they. But it had outlived its age, and we knew we could replace 
it by a better — bo its destruction was inevitable ; and if we had made 

Pakt ir. PROSPECTS. 41 

the same prc^ees in the higher that we have in the lower branches 
of the building art, we should see a Gothic cathedral pulled down with 
the same indifference, content to know that we could easily replace it 
by one far nobler and more worthy of our age and intelligence. No 
architect during the middle ages ever hesitated to pull down any part 
of a cathedral that was old and going to decay, and to replace it with 
something in the style of the day, however incongruous that might be ; 
and if we were progressing as they were, we should have as little com- 
punction in following the same course. 

In the confusion of ideas and of styles which now prevails, it is 
satisflEtctory to be able to contemplate, in the Crystal Palace at Syden- 
ham, at least one great building carried out wholly on the principles 
of Gothic or of any true style of art. No material is used in it which 
is not the best for its purpose, no constructive expedient employed 
which was not absolutely essential, and it depends wholly for its effect 
on the arrangement of its parts and the display of its construction. So 
essentially is its principle the same which, as we have seen, animated 
Gothic architecture, that we hardly know even now how much of the 
design belongs to Sir Joseph l*axton, how much to the contractors, or 
how much to the subordinate officers employed by the ("ompany. Here, 
as in a cathedral, every man was set to work in that department which 
it was supposed he was best qualified to superintend. There was room 
for every art and for every intellect, and clashing and interference were 
impossible. 1 his, however, is only the second of the series. A third 
would probably as far surpass it as it is beyond the first ; and if the 
series were carried to a hundred, with more leisure and a higher aim, 
wo might perhaps learn to despise many things we now so servilely 
copy, and might create a style surpassing anything that ever went 
before. We have certainly more wealth, more constructive skill, and 
more knowledge than our forefathers ; and living in the same climate, 
and being of the same race, there seems no insupemble difficulty in 
uur doing at least as much if not more than they accomplished. 

Art, however, will not be regenerated by buildings so ephemeral as 
Cr3'8tal Palaces, or so prosaic as Manchester warehouses, nor by anything 
so essentially utilitarian as the works of our engineers. The one hope 
is that having commenced at the bottom, the true system may extend 
upwards, and come at last to be applied to our palaces and churches, 
and that the whole nation will lend its aid to work out the great prol)- 
lem. W henever its significance is rightly appreciated by the public, 
this result seems inevitable ; and with the means of diffusing knowledge 
which we now possess, we may perhaps be permitted to fancy that the 
dawn is at hand, and that after our long wanderings in the dark, day- 
light may again enlighten our path and gladden our hearts with the 
vision of brighter and better things in art than a false system has 
hitherto enabled us to attain. 




Ethn'ouxjy, though one of the youngest, is perhaps neither the least 
beautiful nor the least attractive of that fair sisterhood of sciences, whose 
birth has rewarded the patient industry and inflexible love of truth 
which characterises the philosophy of the present day. It takes up' 
the history of the world at the point where it is left by its elder sister 
Geology, and, following tlie same line of argument, strives to reduce to 
the same scientific mode of expression the apparent chaos of fietcts 
which have hitherto been looke<l upon as inexplicable by the general 

It is only within the limits of the present century that Geol(^y 
was rescued from the dreams of cataclysms and convulsions which 
formed the staple of the science in the last century ; and that step by 
step, by slow degrees, rocks have been classified, and phenomena 
explained. All that picturesque wildness with which the materials 
seemed at first sight to be distributed over the world*s surface has been 
reduced to order, and they now lie arranged as clearly and as certainly 
in the mind of a geologist, as if they had been squared by the tool of 
a mason, and placed in order by the hand of a mechanic. So it is with 
Ethnology. Race has succeeded race ; — all have been disturbed, some 
obliterated— many contorted — and sometimes the older, apparently, 
huperimposed upon the newer. All at first sight is chaos and confusion, 
and it seems almost hopeless to attempt to unravel the mysteries of 
the long forgotten past. It is true nevertheless, in Ethnology, as in the 
sister science, that no change on the world's surface has taken place 
without leaving its mark. A race may be obliterated, or onl}^ crop up 
at the edge of some great basin of population ; but it has left its traces, 
either as fossil remains in the shape of buildings or works, or as impres- 
sions on language or art on those who supplanted the pemhing race. 
When these are i^ad,— when all tlie phenomena are gathered together 
and classified, we find the same i)erfection of Order, the same beautiful 
simplicity of law pervading the same complex variety of results, which 
characterise all tlie phenomena of nature, and the knowledge of which 
is the highest reward of intellectual exertion. 

Language has hitherto been the great implement of analysis which 
has been employed to elucidate the affiliation of races ; and the present 
*^te of the science may be said to be almost entirely due to the acumen 


and industry of learned linguista Physiology has lent her aid ; but 
the objects offered for her examination are so few, especially in remote 
ages, and the individual differences are so small, as compared with the 
geneiul resemblance, that, in the present state of that science, its 
aid has not been of the importance which it may fSairly be expected 
hereafter to assume. In both bciences History plays an important 
part ; in Geology, by furnishing analogies without which it would bo 
hardly possible to interpret the &ct8; in Ethnology, by pointing out 
the direction in which inquiries should be made, and by guiding and 
controlling the conclusions which may have been an'ived at. With 
the assistance of these sciences, Ethnologists have accomplished a great 
deal, and may do more ; but Ethnology, based merely on Language and 
Physiology, is like Geology based only on Mineralogy and Chemistry. 
Without Palaeontology, that science would never have assumed the 
importance or reached the perfection to which it has now attained ; and 
Ethnology will never take the place which it is really entitled to, till 
its results are checked, and its conclusions elucidated, by the science of 

Without the aid and vivifying influence derived from the study of 
fossil remains, Geology would lose half its value, and more than half its 
interest. It may be interesting to the man of science to know what 
rock is superimposed upon another, and how and in what relative 
periods these changes occurred ; but it is far more interesting to watch 
the dawn of life on this globe, and to trace its development into the 
present teeming stage of existence. So it will be when, with the aid of 
Archaeoli^y, Ethnologists are able to identify the various strata in which 
mankind have been distributed ; to fix identities of race from simi- 
larities of Alt ; and to read the history of the past from the unconscious 
testimcmy of material remains. When properly studied and understood, 
there is no language so clear, or whose testimony is so undoubted, as 
that of those petrified thoughts and feelings which men have left 
engraved on the walls of their temples, or buried with them in the 
chambers of their tombs. Unconsciously expressed, but imperishably 
written, they are there to this hour. Any one who likes may read, and 
no one who can translate them can for one moment doubt but that they 
are the best, and frequently the only, records that remain of bygone 

It is not difficult to explain why ethnographers have not hitherto 
considered Archaeology of that importance to their researches to which 
it is undoubtedly entitled. We live in an age when all Art is a chaos 
of copying and confusion ; we are daily masquerading in the costume of 
every nation of the earth, ancient and modem, and are unable to realize 
that these dresses in which we deck ourselves were once realities. 
Because Architecture, since the Reformation in the sixteenth centuiy, 
has in Europe been a mere horlus siccus of dried specimens of the art of 



all countries and of all ages, we cannot feel that, before that time. Art 
was earnest and progressive ; and that men then did what they felt to 
be best and most appropriate, by the same processes by which Nature 
works. We do not therefore perceive that, though in an infinitely 
lower grade, we may reason of the works of man before a given date, 
with the same certainty with which we can reason of those of Nature. 
When this great feet is once reo^nized — and it is indisputable — 
Archaeology and PalBBontology take their places side by side, as the 
guiding and vivifying elements in the sister sciences of Ethnology and 
Geology ; and give to each of these a value they could never otherwise 

As may well be expected, however, when Archaeology is employed to 
aid in these researches, results are frequently arrived at, which at first 
sight are discrepant from those to which the study of language alone 
has hitherto led scientific men. But this is no proof either of the truth 
or falsehood of the conclusions arrived at, or of the value or worthless- 
ness of the processes employed. Both are essential to the question of 
knowledge, and it is by a skilful balancing of both classes of evidence 
that truth is ultimately arrived at 

It would be out of place to attempt in an introduction like the 
present anything approaching to a complete investigation of this subject. 
Nor is it neccssar}'. The various ethnographic relations of one style to 
another will be pointed out as they arise in the course of the narrative, 
and their influence traced to such an extent as may be necessary to 
render them intelligible. But for the same reasons which made it expe- 
dient that the Technical properties of Architecture should be sketched 
in the previous chapters of this introduction, it will add to the clear- 
ness of what follows if the typical characteristics of the principal 
races ' of mankind with whom the narrative deals, are first defined as 
clearly though as succinctly' as possible. 

As the object of introducing the subject here is not to write an 
essay on Ethnology', but to render the history of Architecture interest- 
ing and intelligible, it may be expedient to avoid all speculation as to 
the origin of mankind, or the mode in which the various races diverged 
from one another and became so markedly distinct. Stretch the history 
of Architecture as we will, we cannot get beyond the epoch of the 
PjTamid builders, and when these were erected the various laces of 
mankind had acquired those distinctive characteristics which mark 

* The term ** Pendstcnt Varieties '* luis 

reoeiitly been introduced, instead of ** race," 

in ethnological nomenclature, and, if sci- 

oitlfio accuracy is aimed at, is no doubt 

•Ml impnnrement. It is an advantage to 

m term which docs not even in ap- 

pearance prejudge any of the questions 
between the oionogenists and polygenists, 
aud leaves undeeitled all the questions 
how the variations of mankind arose. But 
it sounds pedantic ; and " race " may be 
understood as meiming the same thing. 


them now. Not long afterwards, when the tombs at Beni Hassan 
were painted, these distinctions were so marked and so well understood 
that these pictures might serve for the illustration of a book on Ethno- 
graphy at the present day. Nor will it be necessary in this preliminary 
sketch to attempt more than to point out the typical features of the 
four great building races of mankind. The Turanian, the Semitic, 
the Celtic, and the Aryan. Even with regard to these, all that will 
be necessary will be to point out the typical characteristics without 
even, attempting to define too accurately their boundaries, and leaving 
the minuter gradations to be developed in the sequel. 

The one great fact which it is essential to insist on here is, that if 
^ve do not take into account its connexion with Ethnography, the His- 
tory of Architecture is a mere dry, hard recapitulation of uninteresting 
foots and terms ; but when its relation to the world's history is under- 
stood, — when we read in their buildings the feelings and aspirations of 
the people who erected them, and above all through their arts we can 
trace their relationship to, and their descent from one another, the 
study becomes one of the most interesting, as well as one of the most 
useful which can be presented to an inquiring mind. 


The result of recent researches has enabled the ethnographer to divide 
and arrange prehistoric man into three great groups or periods, which 
in Europe at least certainly succeeded to one another, though at what 
times has not yet been determined even approximately ; nor is it known 
how long any of the three subsisted before it was superseded by the next. 

The first is called the Stone age, from the rude race who then 
peopled Europe having no knowledge of the use of metals. All the 
cutting parts of their implements were formed of flint or other hard 
stones, probably fitted with wooden or bone handles, and used with 
tools of these materials. 

These wei*e succeeded by a people having a knowledge of the use of 
copper and tin, with the possession of gold, and perhaps silver. Their 
principal weapons and tools were formed of a compound of the two 
first-named metals ; and their age has consequently been called the age 

of Bronze. 

Both these were superseded, perhaps in historic times, by a people 
having a knowledge of the properties and use of Iron. Hence their 
epoch came to be distinguished by the name of that metal. 

There seems no doubt but that the people of the Stone age were 
generally, if not exclusively, of that great family which we now know 

as the Turanian. 

The race who introduced bronze seem to have been the ancestors of 
the Celtic races who afterwards peopled so large a portion of Europe, 


The Aryans were those who introduced the use of iron, and with it 
dominated over and expelled the older races. 

If any prehistoric traces of the Semitic races are to be found, they 
must be looked for in Western Asia or in Africa : they certainly had 
no settlements in Europe. 

Further researches may perhaps at some future time enable us to fix 
approximate dates to these various migrations. At present we know 
that men using flint implements lived in the valleys of the Garonne 
and Dordogne when the climate of the south of France was as cold aw 
that of Lapland, or perhaps Greenland ; when the reindeer was their 
principal domestic animal, and the larger animals of the country 
belonged to species many of which had ceased to inhabit those 
regions before the dawn of history. On the other hand, we may 
assert with certainty that the climate of Egypt has not varied since 
the age of the pyramid builders ; and there is nothing in the history* 
of either Greece or Italy that would lead us to beUeve that any 
remarkable alteration in the climate of these countries has taken place 
in historic times. 

These questions, however, hardly come within the scope of the 
present work. The men of the Stone age have left nothing which can 
be styled architecture, unless we include in that term the rudo tumuli 
of earth with which they covered the remains of their dead. It is 
also extremely uncertain if we can identify any building of stone now 
existing in Western or Northern Europe as belonging certainly to the 
age of Bronze. All the rude cromlechs, dolmens, menhira, and circles 
of stone, which usher in the early dawn of civilization in Europe, 
belong, it is true, to the earlier races but seem to have been erected by 
them at a time when the Aryan races had taught them the use of iron, 
and they had learnt to appreciate the value of stone as a moniunental 
record. This may limit the date of all our Celtic remains to a period 
subsequent to the expansion of the Roman power, but this was long 
subsequent to the use of iron in Egypt and the East, and long after 
architecture had attained maturity ; and its history became easily and 
distinctly legible in the valley of the Nile. 

The great featuie in the history of the Turanian races is that they 
were the first to people the whole world beyond the limits of the 
original cradle of mankind. Like the primitive unstratified rocks of 
geologists, they form the substructure of the whole world, frequently- 
rising into the highest and most prominent peaks, sometimes overflowing 
whole districts, and occupying a vast portion of tbo world's surface ; — 
eveiywhere underlying all the others, and affording their disintegrated 
materials to form the more recent strata that now overlie and frequently 
obliterate them, — in appearance at least. 

In the old world the Typical Turanians were the Egyptians ; in the 
modem the Chinese and Japanese ; — and to these we are perhaps jus- 


tified in adding the Mexicans. If this last adscription stands good, we 
have at three nearly equidistant points (120 degrees apart) on the 
earth 8 surface, and under the tropic of Cancer, the three great culmi- 
nating points of this form of civilization. The outlying strata in Asia 
are the Tamuls, who once occupied all India, and all the races now 
existing in the countries between India and China. The Turanians 
existed in the valley of the Euphrates before the Semitic or Aryan races 
came there, llie Tunguses in the north are Turanians, and so are the 
Mongols, the Turks, and all those tribes generally described as Tartars. 

In Europe the race crops up in the Magyars, the Finns, the Lapps, 
and in odd broken fragments here and there, but everywhere over- 
powered by the more civilized Aryans, who succeeded and have driven 
them into the remotest comers of the continent. 

In Africa they have been almost as completely overpowered by the 
Semitic race, and in America are now being everywhere as entirely 
overwhelmed as they were in Eiirope by the Aryan races, and in all 
probability will soon disappear altogether. 

Even if the linguist should hesitate to affirm that all their languages 
can be traced to a common root, or present sufficient affinities for a 
classification, the general features of the races enumerated above arc 
so alike the one to the other, that, for all real ethnographic purposes, 
they may certainly be considered as belonging to one great group. 
Whether nearly obliterated, as they are in most parts of Europe, or 
whether they still retain their nationality, as in the eastern parts of 
Asia, they always appear as the earliest of races, and everywhere 
present peculiarities of feeling and civilization easily recognized, and 
which distinguish them from all the other races of mankind. 

If they do not all speak cognate languages, or if we cannot now 
trace their linguistic affinities, we must not too readily assume that 
therefore they are distinct the one from the other. It must be more 
philosophical to believe, what pn)bably is the case, that the one instru- 
ment of analysis we have hitherto used is not sufficient for ihe purpose, 
and we ought consequently to welcome every other process which will 
throw further light on the subject. 

Religion of the Turanians. 

It is perhaps not too much to assert that no Turanian race ever rose 
to the idea of a God external to the world. All their gods were men 
who had lived with them on the face of the earth. In the old world 
they were kings, — men who had acquired fame from the extent of their 
power, or greatness from their wisdom. The Buddhist reform taught 
the Turanian races that virtue, not power, was true greatness, and that 
the humblest as well as the highest might attain beatitude through the 
practioe of piety. 


All the Turanians have a distinct idea of rewards and pnnishmentB 
after death, and generally also of a preparatory pui^tory by trans- 
migration through the bodies of animals, clean or unclean according to 
the actions of the defunct spirit, but always ending in another world. 
With some races transmigration becomes nearly all in all ; in others it 
is nearly evanescent, and Heaven and Hell take its place ; but the two 
are essentially doctrines of this race. 

From the fact of their gods having been only ordinary mortals, and 
all men being able to aspire to the godhead, their form of worship was 
essentially anthropic and ancestral ; their temples were palaces, where 
the gods sat on thrones and received petitions and dispensed justice as 
in life, and where men paid that homage to the image of the dead 
which they would have paid to the living king. They were in fact 
the idolators, par excellence. Their tombs were even more sacred than 
their temples, and their reverence was more frequently directed to the 
remains of their ancestors than to the images of their gods. Hence 
arose that reverence for relics which formed so marked a feature in 
their ritual in all ages, and which still prevails among many race« 
almost in the direct ratio in which Turanian blood can be traced in 
their veins. 

Unable to rise above humanity in their conceptions of the deity, 
they worshipped all material things. Trees with them in all times 
were objects of veneration, and of especial worship in particular loca- 
lities. The mysterious serpent was with them a god, and the bull in 
most Turanian countries an object of special veneration. The sun, the 
moon, the stars, all filled niches in their Pantheon ; in fact, whatever 
they saw they believed in, whatever they could not comprehend they 
worshipped. They cared not to inquire beyond the evidence of their 
senses, and were incapable of abstracting their conceptions. To the 
T\iranians also is due that peculiar reverence for localities made cele- 
brated by great historical events, or rendered sacred by being the scene 
of great religious events, and hence to them must be ascribed the origin 
of pilgrimages and all their concomitant adjuncts and ceremonies. 

It is to this race also that we owe the existence of human sacrifices 
Always fatalists, always and everywhere indifferent of life, and never 
fearing death, those sacrifices never were to them so terrible as they 
appear to more highly organized races. Thus a child, a relative, or a 
friend, was the most precious, and consequently the most acceptable 
offering a man could bring to appease the wrath or propitiate the favour 
of a god who had Ix^en human, all whose feelings were supposed to be 
retained for ever afterwards. 

It ia easy to trace their tree and serpent worship in every comer of 
the old world from Anaradhapura in Ceylon, to Upsala in Sweden. 
Tbeir tombs and tumuli exist everywhere. Their ancestral worship is 
t. tibB fiyandation at the present day of half the popular creeds of the 


world, and the planets kave hardly ceased to be worshipped at the 
present hour. Most of the more salient peculiarities of this faith were 
softened down by the great Buddhist reform in the sixth century b.c., 
and that refinement of their rude primitive belief has been adopted by 
most of the Turanian people of the modem world ; but even through 
its gloss we can still discern most of the old forms of faith, and even 
its most devoted votaries are yet hardly more than half converted. 


The only form of government ever adopted by any people of Tura- 
nian race was that of absolute despotism, — ^with a tribe, a cliief, — in 
a kingdom, a despot. In highly civilized communities, like those of 
Egypt and China, their despotism was tempered by bureaucratic forms, 
but the chief always as absolute as a Timour or an Attila, though not 
always strong enough to use his power as terribly as thoy did. Their 
laws were real or traditional edicts of their kings, seldom widtten, and 
never administered according to any fixed form of procedure.* 

As a consequence, or a cause of this, the Turanian race are abso- 
lutely casteless ; no hereditary nobility, no caste of priests ever existed 
among them ; between the ruler and the people there could be nothing, 
and every one might aspire equally to all the honours of the State, or 
to the highest dignity of the priesthood. " La carriere ouverte aux 
talens," is essentially the motto of these races or of those allied to 
them, and whether it was the slave of a Pharaoh, or the pipe bearer of 
a Turkish sultan, every office except the throne is and always was 
open to the ambitious. No republic, no limited monarchy, ever arose 
among them. Despotism pure and simple is all tliey ever knew, or are 
even now capable of appreciating. 


Woman among the Turanian races was never regarded otherwise 
than as the helpmate of the poor, and the plaything of the rich ; bom 
to work for the lower classes, and to administer to the gratification of 
the higher. No equality of rights or position was ever dreamt of, and 
the consequence was polyandry where people were poor and women 
scarce, and polygamy where wealth and luxury prevailed ; and with 
these it need hardly be added, a loss of half those feelings which 
ennoble man or make life valuable. 

Neither loving nor beloved in the bosom of his own family, — too 
much of a fatalist to care for the future, — neither enjoying life nor 
fearing death, — the Turanian is generally free from those vices which 
contaminate more active minds ; he remains sober, temperate, truthful, 
and kindly in all the relations of life. If however, he has few vices he 

VOL. I. E 



has fewer virtues, and both are far more passive than active in their 
nature, — ^in feet, approach more nearly to the instincts of the lower 
animals than to the intellectual responsibilities of the highest clafis of 


No Turanian race ever distinguished itself in literature, properly so 
called. 1'hey all possessed annals, because they loved to record the 
names, the dates, and the descent of their ancestors ; but these never 
rose to the dignity of history even in its simplest form. Prose they 
could hardly write, because none of the greater groups -ever appreciated 
the value of an alphabet. Hieroglyphics, signs, symbols, anything 
sufficed for their simple intellectual wants, and they preferred trusting 
to memory to remember what a sign stood for, rather than exercise 
their intellect to compound or analyse a complex alphabetical arrange- 
ment. Their system of poetry helped them, to some extent, over the 
difficulty ; and, with a knowledge of the metre, a few suggestive signs 
enabled the reader to remember at least a lyric composition. But 
without a complex grammar to express and an alphabet to record their 
conceptions it is hopeless to expect that either Epic or Dramatic Poetry 
could flourish, still less that a prose narrative of any extent could be 
remembered ; and philosophy, beyond the use of proverbs, was out of 
the question. 

In their most advanced stages they have, like the Chinese, invented 
syllabaria of hideous complexity, and have even borrowed alphabets 
from their more advanced neighbours. By some it is supposed that 
they have even invented them ; but though they have thus got over 
the mechanical difficulties of the case, their intellectual condition 
remains the same, and they have never advanced beyond the merest 
nidiments of a literature, and have never mastered even the elements 
of any scientific philosophy. 


If so singularly deficient in the phonetic modes of literary expres- 
sion, the Turanian races made up for it to a great extent in the 
excellence they attained in most of the branches of aesthetic art. As 
architects they were unsurpassed, and in Egypt alone have left monu- 
ments which are still the world's wonder. The Tamul race in Southern, 
the Moguls in Northern India, in Burmah, in China, and in Mexico, 
wherever these races are found, they have raised monuments of 
dimensions tmsurpassed ; and, oonsideiing the low state of civilization 
in which they often existed, displaying a degree of taste and skill as 
remarkable as it is unexpected. 

In oonsequenoe of the circumstance above mentioned of their gods 


having been kings, and after death still only considered as watching 
over and influencing the destiny of mankind, their temples were only 
exaggerated palaces, containing halls, and chambers, and thrones, and 
all the appurtenances required by the living, but on a scale befitting 
the celestial character now acquired. So much is this the case in 
Egypt that we hardly know by which name to designate them, and the 
same remark applies to all. 

Even more sacred, however, than their temples were their tombs. 
Wherever a Turanian race exists or existed, there their tombs remain ; 
and from the Pyramids of Egypt to the mausoleum of Hyder Ali, the 
last Tartar king in India, they form the most remarkable series of monu- 
ments the world possesses, and all were built by people of Turanian 
race. No Semite and no Aryan ever built a tomb that could last a 
centuiy or was worthy to remain so long. 

The Buddhist reform altered the funereal tumulus into a relic 
shrine, modifying this, as it did most of the Turanian forms of utter- 
ance, from a literal to a somewhat more spiritual form of expression, 
but leaving the meaning the same, — the Tope being still essentially a 

Combined with that wonderful appreciation of form which charac- 
terizes all the architectural works of the Turanians, they possessed 
an extraordinary passion for coloured decoration and an instinctive 
knowledge of the harmony of colours. They used throughout the 
primitive colours in all their elemental crudeness ; and though always 
brilliant, are never vulgar, and guiltless of any mistake in harmony. 
From the first dawn of painting in Egypt to the last signboard in 
Constantinople or Canton, it is always the same — the same brilliancy 
and harmony produced by the simplest means. 

In sculpture they were not so fortunate. Having no explanatory 
literature to which to refer, it was necessaiy that their statues should 
tell their whole tale themselves; and sculpture does not lend itself 
to this so readily as painting. With them it is not sufficient that a god 
should be colossal, he must be symbolical ; he must have more arms 
and legs or more heads than common men ; he must have wings and 
attributes of power, or must combine the strength of a lion or a bull 
with the intellect of humanity. The statue must, in shoii;, tell the whole 
story itself ; and where this is attempted the result can only be pleas- 
ing to the narrow faith of the unreflecting devotee. So far from being 
able to express more than humanity, sculpture must attempt even less 
if it would be successful; but this of course rendered it useless for 
the purposes to which the Turanians wished to apply it. 

The same remarks apply to painting, properly so called. This 
never can attain its highest development except when it is the exponent 
of phonetic utterances. In Greece the painter strove only to give form 
and substance to the more purely intellectual creation of the poet, and 

E 2 



could consequently dispense with all but the highest elements of his 
art In Egypt the picture was all in all ; it had no text to refer to, 
and must tell the whole tale with all its adjuncts, in simple intelli- 
gible prose, or be illegible, and the consequence is that the story 
is told with a clearness that charms us even now. It is, however, 
only a story; and, like everything else Turanian, however great or 
wonderful, its greatness and its wonder are of a lower class and 
less intellectual than the utterances of the other great divisions of the 
human family. 

We have scarcely the means of knowing whether any Turanian 
race ever successfully cultivated music to any extent. It is more 
than probable that all their families can and always could appreciate 
the harmony of musical intervals, and might be charmed with simple 
cadences ; but it is nearly certain that a people who did not possess 
phonetic poetry could never rise to that higher class of music which 
is now carried to such a pitch of perfection, that harmonic combinations 
almost supply the place of phonetic expression and influence the 
feelings and passions to almost the same extent. 

There is also this further peculiarity about their arts, that they 
seem always more instinctive than intellectual, and consequently are 
incajiable of that progress which distinguishes most of the works of 
man. At the first dawn of art in Egypt, in the age of the Pyramid 
builders, all the arts were as perfect and as complete as they were 
when the country fell under the domination of the Komans. The 
earliest works in China are as perfect — in some respects more so — 
as those of to-day ; and in Mexico, so soon as a race of red savages 
peopled a country so densely as to require art and to appreciate 
magnificence, the arts sprung up among them with as much per- 
fection, we may fairly assume, as they would have attained had they 
been practised for thousands of years under the same circiunstances 
and uninfluenced by foreigners. It is even more startling to find that 
the arts of the savages who inhabited the south of France, on the skirts 
of the glacial period, are identical with those of the Esquimaux of the 
present day. 


There is no reason to suppose that any people occupying so low a 
position in the intellectual scale could ever cultivate anything 
approaching to abstract science, and there is no proof of it existing. 
Living, however, as they did, on the verge of the tropics, in the 
most beautiful climates of the world, and where the sky is generally 
Berene and unclouded, it was impossible but that they should become 
to 0ome extent astronomers. 

It is not known that any of them ever formed any theory to 


acoount for the phenomena they observed, but they seem to have 
watched the paths of the planets, to have recorded eclipses, and 
generally to have noted times and events with such correctness as 
enabled them to predict their return with very considerable pre- 
cision ; but here their science stopped, and it is not known that they 
ever attempted any other of the multifarious branches of modem 

VVe have only very imperfect means of knowing what their 
agriculture was ; but it seems always to have been careful when 
once they passed from the tihephcrd state, though whether scientific 
or not it is not easy to say. On the point of artificial irrigation the 
Turanians have always been singularly expert. \\ herever you follow 
their traces, the existence of a tunnel is almost as certain an indication 
of their pre-existence as that of a tomb. It is amusing, as it is 
instructive, to see at this hour an Arab Pacha breaking down in his 
attempts to restore the irrigation works of the old Pharaohs, or an 
English Engineer officer blundering in his endeavours to copy the 
works instinctively performed by a Mogul, or a Spaniard trying to 
drain the lakes of Mexico. Building and irrigation were the special 
instincts of this old people, and the practical intellect of the higher 
races seems hardly yet to have come up to the point where these 
arts were left by the early Turanian races, while the perfection they 
attained in them is the more singular from the contrast it affords 
to what they did, or, rather, did not do, in other branches of art or 


From the extraordinary influence the Semitic races have had in 
the religious development of mankind, we are apt to consider them as 
politically more important than they really ever were. At no period 
of their history have they nimibercd more than twenty or thirty 
millions of souls. The principal locality in which they developed 
themselves was the small tract of country between the Tigris, the 
MediteiTanean, and the Red Sea ; but they also existed as a separate 
race in Abyssinia, and extended their colonies along the northern 
coast of Africa. 'J'heir intellectual development has been in all ages 
so superior to that of the Turanian races, that they have subdued them 
mentally wherever they came in contact with them; and notwith- 
standing their limited geographical extension, they have influenced 
the intellect of the Aryan tribes to a greater extent than almost any of 
their own congeners. 

If anything were required to justify the ethnographer in treating the 
various families of mankind as distinct and separate varieties, it would 
be the study of the history of the Semitic race. What they were in 
the time of Abraham, that they are at the present day. A large section 


of them sojourned in Egypt, among people of a diflferent race, and 
they came out as immixed as oil would do that is floated in water. 
For the last two thousand years they have dwelt dispersed among the 
Gentiles, without a nationality, almost without a common language, 
yet they remain the same in feature, the same in intellectual develop- 
ment and feeling, they exhibit the same undying repugnance to all 
except those of their own blood, which characterised the Arab and the 
Jew when we first recognize their names in history. So unchangeable 
are they in this respect, that it seems in vain to try to calculate how 
long this people must have lived by themselves, separated from other 
races, that they should have thus acquired that distinctive fixity of 
character nothing can alter or obliterate, and which is perhaps even 
more wonderful intellectually than are the woolly hair and physical 
characteristics of the negro, though not so obvious to the superficial 


From the circumstance of our possessing a complete series of the 
religious literature of the Semitic race, extending over the two thousand 
years which elapsed between Moses and Mahomet, we are enabled to 
speak on this point with more precision than we can regarding the 
doctrines of almost any other people. 

The great and distinguishing tenet of this race when pure is and 
always seems to have been the unity of God, and his not being bom of 
man. Unlike the gods of the Turanians, their Deity never was man, 
never reigned or lived on eartli, but was the Cieator and l^reserver of 
the universe, living before all time, and extending beyond all space ; 
though it must be confessed they have not always expressed this idea 
with the purity and distinctness which might be desired. 

It is uncertain how far they adhered to this purity of belief in 
Assyria, where they were more mixed up with other races than they 
have ever been before or since. In Syria, where they were super- 
imix>sed ujx^n and mixed with a people of Turanian origin, they 
occasionally worshipped stones and groves, serpents, and even bulls; 
but they inevitably oscillated back to the true faith and retained it to 
the hist In Arabia, after they became dominant, they cast off their 
Tunuiian idolatries, and rallied as one man to the watchword of their 
i*ace, '* There is no Goil but God," expressed with a clearness that nothing 
can obscure, and chmg to it with a tenacity that nothing could shake or 
change. Since then they liave never represented God as man, and 
liardly ever looked upon him as actuated by the feelings of humanity. 

The channel of communication between God and man has always 
been, with all the Semitic races, by means of prophecy. Prophets are 
sent or are inspired by God, to communicate his will to man, to pro- 
pound his laws, and sometimes to foretell events ; but in all instances 


without losing their character as men, or becoming more than mes- 
sengers for the special service for which they are sent. 

With the Jews, but with them only, does there seem to have been 
a priest caste set aside for the special service of God; not selected 
from all the people, as would have been the case with the casteless 
Turanians, but deriving their sanctiiy from descent, as would have 
been the case vdth the Aryans; still they differed from the Ar5''an 
institution inasmuch as the Levites always retained the characteristics 
of a tribe, and never approached the form of an aristocracy. They 
may therefore be considered ethnographically as an intermediate insti- 
tution, partaking of the characteristics of the other two races. 

The one point in which the Semitic form of religion seems to come 
in contact with the Turanian, is that of sacrifice; human, in early 
times perhaps, even till the time of Abraham, but afterwards only of 
oxen and sheep and goats in hecatombs; and this apparently not 
among the Arabs, but only with the Jews and the less pure Phoeni- 

From their having no human gods they avoided all the palatial 
temples, or ceremonial forms of idolatrous worship. Strictly speaking, 
they have no temples. There was one holy place in the old world, 
the Hill of Zion at Jerusalem, and one in the new dispensation, the 
Kaaba at Mecca. Solomon, it is true, adorned the first to an extent 
but little consonant with the true feeling of his race, but the Eaaba 
remains in its primitive insignificance ; and neither of these temples, 
either then or now, derive their sanctiiy from the buildings. They are 
the spots where God's prophets stood and communicated his will to 
man. It is true that in after ages a Eoman Tetrarch and a Turkish 
Sultan surroimded these two Semitic cells with courts and cloisters, 
which made them wonders of magnificence in the cities where they 
existed; but this does not affect the conclusion that no Semitic race 
ever erected a durable building, or even thought of possessing more 
than one temple at a time, or cared to emulate the splendour of the 
temple-palaces of the Turanians. 


Although no Semitic race was ever quite republican, which is a 
purely Aryan characteristic, they never sank under such an unmitigated 
despotism as is generally found among the Turanians. When in small 
nuclei, their form of government is what is generally called patriarchal, 
the chief being neither necessarily hereditary, nor necessarily elective, 
but attaining his headship partly by the influence due to age and 
wisdom, or to virtue, jMirtly to the merits of his connexions, and some- 
times of his ancestors ; but never wholly to the latter without some 
reference at least to the former. 


In larger aggregatdons the difficulty of selection made the chiefiship 
more generally hereditary ; but even then the power of the King was 
always controlled by the authority of the written law, and never sank 
into the pure despotism of the Turanians. With the Jews, too, the 
sacred caste of the Levites always had considerable influence in 
checking any excesses of kingly power; but more was due in this 
respect to their peculiar institution of prophets, who, protected by the 
sacrcdness of their office, at all times dared to act the part of tribunes 
of the people, and to rebuke with authority any attempt on the part of 
the King to step beyond the limits of the constitution. 


One of the most striking characteiistics in the morals of the Semitic 
races is the improvement in the position of woman, and the attempt to 
elevate her in the scale of existence. If not absolutely monogamic, 
there is among the Jews, and among the Arabic races where they 
are pure, a strong tendency in this direction ; and but for the example 
of those nations among whom they were placed, they might have gone 
further in this direction, and the dignity of mankind have been pro- 
portionately improved. 

Their worst faults arise from their segregation from the rest of 
mankind. With them war against all but those of their own race is 
an obligation and a pleasure, and it is carried on with a relentless 
cruelty which knows no pity. To smite root and branch, to murder 
men, women, and children, is a duty which admits of no hesitation, 
and has stained the character of the Semites in all ages. Against this 
must be placed the fact that they are patriotic beyond all other races, 
and steadfast in their faith as no other people have ever been ; and 
among themselves they have been tempered to kindness and charity 
by the sufferings they have had to bear because of their uncompro- 
mising hatred and repugnance to all their fellow-men. 

This isolation has had the further effect of making them singularly 
apathetic to all that most interests the other nations of the earth. 
What their God has revealed to them through his prophets suffices for 
them. " God is great," is a sufficient explanation with them for all the 
wonders of science. " God wiUs it/* solves all the complex problems 
of the moral government of the world. If not such absolute £Ettalists as 
the Turanians, they equally shrink from the responsibility of thinking 
for themselves, or of applying their independent reason to the great 
problems of human knowledge. They may escape by this from many 
aberrations that trouble more active minds, but their virtues at best 
can be but negative, and their vices unredeemed by the higher aspira- 
tions that sometimes half ennoble even crime. 



In this again we havo an immense advance above all the Turanian 
races. Xo Semitic people ever nsed a hieroglyph or mere symbol, or 
were content to trust to memory only. Eveiywhere and at all times — 
so far as we know — they used an alphabet of more or less complicated 
form. Whether they invented this mode of notation or not is still 
unknown, but its use by them is certain ; and the consequence is that 
they possess, if not the oldest, at least one of the very oldest literatures 
of the world. History with them is no longer a mere record of names 
and titles, but a chronicle of events, and with the moral generally 
elicited. The story and the rhapsody take their places side by side, 
the preaching and the parable are used to convey their lessons to the 
world. If they had not the Epos and the Drama, they had lyric poetry 
of a beauty and a pathos which has hardly ever been surpassed. 

It was this possession of an alphabet, conjoined with the sublimity 
of their monotheistic creed, that gave these races the only superiority 
to which they have attained. It is this which has enabled them to 
keep themselves pure and undefiled in all the catastrophes to which 
they have been exposed, and that still enables their literature and 
their creed to exert an influence over almost all the nations of the 
earth, even in times when the people themselves have been held in 
most supreme contempt. 


It may have been partly in consequence of their love of phonetic 
literature, and partly in order to keep themselves distinct from those 
great builders the Turanians, that the Semitic races never erected 
a building worthy of the name; neither at Jerusalem, nor at Tyre 
or Sidon, nor at Carthage, is there any vestige of Semitic Architectural 
Art. Not that these have perished, but because they never existed. 
When Solomon proposed to build a temple at Jerusalem, though plain 
externally, and hardly so large as an ordinary parish church, he was 
forced to have recourse to some Turanian people to do it for him, and 
by a display of gold and silver and brass ornaments to make up for 
the architectural forms he knew not how to apply. 

In Assyria we have palaces of dynasties more or less purely Semitic, 
splendid enough, but of wood and sunburnt bricks, and only preserved 
to our knowledge from the accident of their having been so clumsily 
built as to bury themselves and their wainscot slabs in their own ruins. 
Though half the people were probably of Turanian origin, their temples 
seem to have been external and unimportant till Sennacherib and 
others learnt the art of using stone from the Egyptians, as the Syrians 
did afterwards from the Komans. During the domination of the last- 



named people, we have the temples of Palmyra and Baalbec, of Jeru- 
salem, and Petra: everywhere an art of the utmost splendour, but 
with no trace of Semitic feeling or Semitic taste in any part, or in any 

The Jewish worship being neither ancestral, nor the bodies of their 
dead being held in special reverence, they had no tombs worthy of the 
name. They buried the bodies of their patriarchs and kings with care, 
and knew where they were laid ; but not until after the return from 
the Babylonish captivity did they either worship there, or mark the 
spot with any architectural forms, though after that epoch we find 
abundant traces of a tendency towards that especial fonn of Turanian 
idolatry. But even then the adornment of their tombs with architec- 
tural magnificence cannot be traced back to an earlier period than the 
time of the Romans ; and all that we find marked with splendour of 
this class was the work of that people, and stamped with their peculiar 
forms of Art 

Painting and sculpture were absolutely forbidden to the Jews 
because they were Turanian arts, and because their practice might 
lead the people to idolatry, so that these nowhere existed : though we 
cannot understand a people with any mixture of Turanian blood who 
had not an eye for colour, and a feeling for beauty of form, in detail 
at least. Music alone was therefore the one sBsthetic art of the Semitic 
races, and, wedded to the lyric verse, seems to have influenced their 
feelings and eiccited their passions to an extent unknown to other 
nations ; but to posterity it cannot supply the place of the more per- 
manent arts, whose absence is so much felt in attempting to realize the 
feelings or aspirations of a people like this.^ 

As regards the useful arts, the Semites were always more pastoral 
than agricultural, and have not left in the countries they inhabited 
any traces of such hydraulic works as the earlier races executed ; but 
in commerce they excelled all nations. The Jews — from their inland 
situation, cut off from all access to the sea— could not do much in 
foreign trade ; but they always kept up their intercourse with Assyria. 
The Phoenicians traded backwards and forwards with every part of 
the Mediterranean, and first opened out a knowledge of the Atlantic ; 
and the Arabs first commenced, and for long afterwards alone carried 

' All round the shores of the Mediter- 
ranean are found the traces of an art 
which has hitherto been a stumbling- 
block to antiquarians. Egyptian car- 
touches and ornaments in Assyria, which 
are not Egyptian; sarcophagi at Tyre, 
of Egyptian form, but with Phoenician 
inacriptionfl, and made for Tyrian kings; 
Q|eek onuunents in Syria, which aro 
■ol Greek ; Boman frescoes or or- 

naments, and architectural details at 
Carthage, and all over Northern Africa, 
which however ore not Roman. In 
short, a copying art something like our 
own, imitating everything, understanding 
nothing. I am indebted to my friend 
Mr. Franks for the suggestion that all 
this art may be Phoenician, in other words, 
Semitic, and I believe he is ri^^t 


on the trade, with India. From the earliest dawn of history to the 
present hour, commerce has been the art which the Semitic nations 
have cultivated with the greatest assiduity, and in which they con- 
sequently have attained the greatest, and an unsurpassed success. 

In Asia and in Africa at the present day, all the native trade is 
carried on by Arabs ; and it need hardly be remarked that the monetary 
transactions of the rest of the world are practically managed by the 
descendants of those, who, one thousand years before Christ, traded 
from Eziongeber to Ophir. , 


Although, as before mentioned. Astronomy was cultivated with 
considerable success both in Egypt and Chaldaoa, among the more 
contemplative Turanians, nothing can be more unsatisfactory than the 
references to celestial events, either in the Bible or the Koran, both 
betraying an entire ignorance of even the elements of astronomical 
science ; and we have no proof that the Phoenicians were at all wiser 
than their neighbours in this respect 

The Semitic races seem always to have been of too poetical a 
temperament to excel in mathematics or the mechanical sciences. If 
there is one branch of scientific knowledge which they may be sus- 
pected of having cultivated with success, it is the group of natural 
sciences. A love of nature seems always to have prevailed with them, 
and they may have known " the trees, from the cedar which is in 
Lebanon to the hyssop that springeth out of the wall, and the names 
of all the beasts, and the fowls, and the creeping things, and the 
fishes ;" but beyond this we know of nothing that can be dignified by 
the name of science among the Semitic races. They more than made 
up however for their deficient knowledge of the exact sciences by the 
depth of their insight into the springs of human action, and the 
sagacity of their proverbial philosophy ; and, more than even this, by 
that wonderful system of Theology before which all the Aryan races 
of the world and many of the Turanian bow at the present hour ; and 
acknowledge it as the basis of their faith, and the source of all their 
religious aspirations. 


It is extremely difficult to write anything very precise or very satis- 
factory regarding the Celtic races, for the simple reason that, within 
the limits of our historic knowledge they never lived sufficiently long 
apart from other races to develope a distinct form of nationality, or to 
create either a literature or a polity by which they could be certainly 
recognised. In this respect they form the most marked contrast with 
the Semitic races. Instead of wrapping themselves up within the 


bounds of the most narrow exclnsiveness, the Celt eveiywhere mixed 
freely with ihe people among whom he settled, and adopted their 
manners and customs with a carelessness that is startling ; while, at 
the same time, he retained the principal characteristics of his race 
through every change of circumstance and clime. 

Almost the only thing that can be predicated of them with certainty 
is, that they were either the last wave of the Turanians, or, if another 
nomenclature is preferred, the first wave of the Aryans, who, migrating 
westward from their parent seat in Asia, displaced the original and 
more purely Turanian tribes who occupied Europe before the dawn of 
history. But, in doing this, they seem to have mixed themselves so 
completely with the races they were supplanting, that it is extremely 
difficult to say now where one begins or where the other ends. 

We find their remains in Asia Minor, whence EthnologistB fitncy 
that they can trace a southern migration along the northern coast of 
Africa, across the Straits of Gibraltar, into Spain, and thence to 
Ireland, and recent discoveries of dolmens and cromlechs in Algeria 
are daily lending to make this more probable. 

A more certain and more important migration crossed the Boe- 
phorus, and following the valley of the Danube, threw one branch into 
Italy, where they penetrated as fiir south as Home ; while the main 
body settled in and occupied Gaul and Belgium, whence they peopled 
Britain, and may have met the southern colonists in the Celtic Island 
of the west. From this they are now migrating, still following the 
course of the sun, to carry to the New World the same brilliant 
thoughtlessness which has so thoroughly leavened all those parts of 
the Old in which they have settled, and which so sorely puzzles 
the more matter-of-fact Arj'an tribes with which they have come in 


It may appear like a hard saying, but it seems nevertheless to be 
true to asseii; that no purely Celtic race ever rose to a perfect conception 
of the unity of the Godhead. It may be that they only boiTowed this 
from the Turanians who preceded them; but whether imitative or 
innate, their Theology admits of Kings and Queens of Heaven who 
were mortals on earth. They possess hosts of saints and angels, and 
a whole hierarchy of heavenly powers of various degrees, to whom the 
Celt turns with as confiding hope and as earnest prayer as ever 
l^uranian did to the gods of his Pantheon. If he does not reverence the 
bodies of the departed as the Egyptian or Chinese, he at least adopts 
the Buddhist veneration for relics, and attaches far more importance to 
funereal rites than was ever done by any tribe of Aryans. 

The Celt is as completely the slave of a casteless priesthood as 
.«ner Tanuaiaxi Buddhist was, and loves to separate it from the rest 


of mankind, as representing on earth the hienCrchy in heaven, to 
which, according to the Celtic creed, all may hope to succeed by 
practice of their peculiar virtues. 

To this may be added, that his temples are as splendid, his cere- 
monials as gorgeous, and the formula as unmeaning as any that ever 
graced the banks of the Nile, or astonished the wanderer in the vallies 
of Thibet, or on the shores of the Eastern Ocean. 


It is still more difficult to speak of the Celtic form of government, 
as no kingdom of this people ever existed by itself for any length of 
time ; and none, indeed, it may be suspected, could long hold together. 
It may, however, bo safely asserted, that no republican forms are 
possible with a Celtic people, and no municipal institutions ever 
flourished among them. The only form, therefore, we know of as 
peculiarly theirs, is despotism ; not necessarily personal, but rendered 
systematio by centralized bureaucratic organizations, and tempered by 
laws in those states which have reached any degree of stability or 

Nothing but a strong centralized despotism can long co-exist with 
a people too impatient to submit to the sacrifices and self-denial 
inherent in all attempts at self-government, and too excitable to be 
controlled, except by the will of the strongest, though it may also 
be the least scrupulous among them. 

When in small bodies they are always governed by a chiefi gene- 
rally hereditary, but always absolute ; who is looked up to with 
awe, and obeyed with a reverence that is imintelligible to the more 
independent races of mankind. 

With such institutions, of course a real aristocracy is impossible ; 
and the restraints of caste must always have been felt to be intolerable. 
** La carriere ouverte aux talons " is their boast ; though not to the 
same extent as with the Turanians; and the selfish gratification of 
individual ambition is consequently always preferred with them to the 
more sober benefit of the general advancement of the community. 


If the Celts never were either polygamic or polyandric, they cer- 
tainly always retained very lax ideas with regard to the marriage-vow, 
and never looked on woman's mission as anything higher than to 
minister to their sensual gratification. With them the woman that 
fulfils this quality best always commands their admiration most. 
Beauty can do no wrong — but without beauty woman can hardly rise 
above the level of the common herd. 

ITie ruling passion in the mind of the Celt is war. Not like the 



exclusive, intolerant Semite, a war of extermination or of proeelytism, 
but war from pure " gaiete do coeur " and love of glory. No Celt fears 
to die, if his dealh can gain fame, or add to the stock of his country's 
glory ; nor in a private fight does he fear death or feel the pain of a 
broken head, if he has had a chance of shooting through the heart or 
cracking the skull of his best friend at the same time. The Celt's love 
of excitement leads him frequently into excesses, and to a disregard 
of truth and the virtues belonging to daily Jife, which are what really 
dignify mankind ; but his love of glory and of his country often go fer 
to redeem these deficiencies, and spread a halo over even his worst fiiults, 
which renders it frequently difficult to blame what we feel in soberness 
we ought to condemn. 


If love and war are the parents of song, the bard and the trou- 
badour ought to have left us a legacy of verse that would have filled 
the libraries of Europe ; and so they probably would had not the 
original Celt been too illiterate to care to record the expressions of 
his feelings. As it is, nine-tenths of the lyric literature of Europe is 
of Celtic origin, ITie Epos and the Drama may belong to the Aryan ; 
but in the art of wedding music to immortal verse, and pouring forth 
a passionate utterance in a few but beautiful words, the Celtic is only 
equalled by the Semitic race. 

Their remaining literature is of such modem growth, and was so 
specially copied from what had preceded it, or so influenced by the 
contemporary efiusions of other people, that it is impossible accurately 
to discriminate what is due to race and what to circmnstances. All 
that can safely be said is, that Celtic literature is always more epi- 
grammatic, more brilliant, and more daring than that of the sober 
Aryan ; but its coruscations neither light to so great a depth, nor last 
so long as less dazzling productions might do. They may be the most 
brilliant, but they certainly do not belong to the highest class of 
literary effort ; nor is their eflfect on the destiny of man likely to be 
so permanent^ 


The true glory of the Celt in Europe is his artistic eminence. It is 
perhaps not too much to assert that without his intervention we 
should not have possessed in modem times a church worthy of admira- 
tion, or a picture or a statue we could look at without shame. 

In their arts, too, — either from their higher status, or from their 
admixture with Aryans, — we escape the instinctive fixity which makes 
the arts of the pure Turanian as unprogressive as the works of birds or 
of beavers. Restless intellectual progress characterizes everthing they 
peiform ; and had their arts not been nipped in the bud by drcum- 
orer which they had no control, we might have seen something 


that would have shamed even Greece, and wholly eclipsed the arts of 

They have not, it is true, that instinctive knowledge of colour 
which distinguishes the Turanian, nor have they been able to give to 
music that intellectual culture which has been elaborated by the 
Aryans: but in the middle path between the two they excel both. 
They are fiir better musicians than the former, and far better colourists 
than the last named races ; but in modem Europe Architecture is 
practically their own. Where their influence was strongest, there 
Architecture was most perfect ; as they decayed, or as the Aryan influ- 
ence prevailed, the art first languished, and then died. 

Their quasi-Turanian theology required Temples almost as grand as 
those of the Copts or Tamuls ; and, like them, they sought to honour 
those who had been mortals by splendour which mortals are assumed to 
be pleased with ; and the pomp of their worship always surpassed that 
with which they honoured their Kings. Even more remarkable than 
this is the fact that they could and did build Tombs such as a Turanian 
might have envied, not for their size but for their art, and even now can 
adorn their cemeteries with monuments which are not ridiculous. 

When a people are so mixed up with other races as the Celts are in 
Europe, — frequently so fused as to be imdistinguishable, — it is almost 
impossible to speak with precision with regard either to their arts or 
influence. It must in consequence be safer to assert that where no 
Celtic blood existed there no real art is foimd ; though it is perhaps 
equally true to assert that not only Architecture, but Painting and 
Sculpture, have been patronized, and have flourished in the exact ratio 
in which Celtic blood is found prevailing in any people in Europe ; and 
has died out as Aryan influence prevails, in spite of their methodical 
efforts to indoctrinate themselves with what must be the spontaneous 
impulse of genius, if it is to be of any value. 


Of their sciences we know nothing ; till they were so steeped in the 
civilization of older races that originality was hopeless. Still, in the 
stages through which the intellect of Europe has yet passed, they have 
played their part with brilliancy. But now that knowledge is 
assuming a higher and more prosaic phase, it is doubtful whether the 
deductive brilliancy of the Celtic mind can avail anything against the 
inductive sobriety of the Aryan. So long as metaphysics were science, 
and science was theory, the peculiar form of the Celtic mind was 
singularly well adapted to see through sophistiy, and to guess the 
direction in which truth might lie. But now that we have only to 
question nature, to classify her answers, and patiently to record results, 
its mission seems to have passed away. Truth in all its majesty, and 


nature in all her greatnem, must now take the place of specalatioii, 
with itfi clevemeiH, and man's ideas of what might or ahoald be, mnst 
be impplanted faj the knowledge of God*8 works as they exist, and the 
or/ntemplation of the eternal grandenr of the uniTerse which we see 
anmnd us. 

Thoogh these are the highest, they are at the same time the most 
sober functions of the hmnan mind ; and while conferring the greatest 
and most lasting benefit, not only on the indiTidnal who practises 
them, but also on the human race, they arc neither calculated to gratify 
personal vanity, nor to reward individual ambition. 

Such pursuits are not, therefore, of a nature to attract or interest the 
Celtic races, but must be left to those who are content to sink their 
personality in seeking the advantage of the common weaL 

v.— AKYAX. 

According to their own chronology, it seems to have been about the 
year 3101 Bjc. that the Aryans crossed the Indus and settled them- 
selves in the cr^untry between that river and the Jumna, since known 
among themselves as Arya Varta, or the Country of the Just, for all 
succeeding ages. 

More than a thousand years afterwards we find them, in the ago of 
the Ramayana, occupying all the country north of the Vindya range, 
and attempting the conquest of the southern country, — then, as now, 
occupied by Turanians, — and penetrating as &r as Ceylon. 

Eight hundred years later we sec them in the Mahabharata, having 
lost much of their purity of blood, and adopting many of the customs 
and much of the faith of the people they were settled amongst ; and 
three centuries before Clirist we find they had so far degenerated as to 
accept, almost without a struggle, the religion of Buddha; which, 
though no doubt a reform, and an important one, on the Anthropio 
doctrines of the pure Turanians, was still essentially a faith of a 
Turanian people ; congenial to them, and to them only. 

Ten centuries after Christ, when the Moslems came in contact with 
India, the Aryan was a myth. The religion of the earlier people was 
everywhere supremo, and with only a nominal thread of Aryanism 
running through the whole, just sufficient to bear testimony to the 
prior existence of a purer faith, but not sufficient to leaven the mass to 
any appreciable extent. 

llie fate of the western Aryans differed essentially from that of those 
who wandcretl eastward. Theoretically we ought to assume, from 
their less complex language and less pure faith, that they were an 
earlier offshoot ; but it may be that in the forests of Europe they lost 
ioft a while the civilized forms which the happier climate of Arya Varta 

liUed the others to retain ; or it may be that the contact with the 


more nearly equal Celtic races had mixed the language and the faith 
of the western races, before they had the opportunity or the leisure to 
record the knowledge they brought with them 

Be this as it may, they first appear prominently in the western 
world in Greece, where, by a fortunate union with the Pelasgi, a people 
apparently of Turanian race, they produced a civilization not purely 
Aryan, and somewhat evanescent in its character, but more brilliant, 
while it lasted, than anything the world had seen before, and, in 
certain respects, more beautiful than anything that has illumined it 
since their time. 

They next sprang forth in Eome, mixed with the Turanian Etrus- 
cans and the powerful Celtic tribes of Italy ; and lastly in Northern 
Europe, where they are now working out their destiny, but to what 
issue the future only can declare. 

The essential difference between the eastern and western migration 
is this — that in India the Aryans have sunk gradually into the arms of 
a Turanian people till they have lost their identity, and with it all that 
ennobled them when they went there, or could enable them now to 
influence the world again. 

In Europe they found the coimtry cleared of Txiranians by the 
earlier Celts ; and, mingling their blood with these more nearly allied 
races, they have raised themselves to a position half way between the 
two. ^Vhere they found the country unoccupied they have remained 
so pure that, as their number multiplies, they may perhaps regain 
something of the position they had temporarily abandoned, and some- 
thing of that science which, it may be fancied, mankind only know in 
their primeval seats. 


What then was the creed of tlio primitive Aryans? So far as we 
can now see, it was tlie belief in one great ineflfable God, — so great that 
no human intellect could measure his greatness, — so wonderful that no 
human language could express his qualities, — pervading everything 
that was made, — ruling all created things, — a spirit, around, beyond 
the universe, and within every individual particle of it. A creed so 
etherial could not long remain the faith of the multitude, and we early 
find fire, — the most etherial of the elements, — looked to as an emblem 
of the Deity. The heavens too received a name, and became an 
entity; — so did our mother earth. To those succeeded the sim, the 
stars, the elements, — but never among the pure Aryans as gods, or as 
influencing the destiny of man, but as manifestations of His power, and 
reverenced because they were visible manifestations of a Being too 
abstract for an ordinary mind to grasp. Below this the Aryans never 
seem to have sunk. 

With a feith so elevated of course no temple could lie wanted ; no 
VOL. 1. y 


human ceremonial conld be Bupposed capable of doing honour to a 
deity so conceived ; nor any Bacrifico acceptable io him to whom all 
things belonged. With the Aryans worship was a purely domestic 
institution ; prayer the solitary act of each individual man, standing 
ahmo in the presence of an omniscient deity. All that was required 
was that man should acknowledge the greatness of God, and his own 
comparative insignificance ; should express his absolute trust and faith 
in the beneficence and justice of his God, and a hope that he might 
ho enabled to live so pure, and so free from sin, as to deserve such 
happiness as this world can afford, and be enabled to do as much good 
to others as it is vouchsafed to man to perform. 

A few insignificant formula served to mark the modes in which 
these subjects should recur. The recitation of a time-honoured hymn 
refreshed the attention of the worshipper, and the reading of a few 
sacred texts recalled the duties it was expected he should perform. 
With these simple ceremonies the worship of the Aryans seems to have 
begim and ended. 

Even in later times, when their blood had become less pure, and 
their feelings were influenced by association with those among whom 
they resided, the religion of the Arj-ans always retained its intellectual 
character. No dogma was ever admitted that would not bear the test 
of reason, and no article of faith was ever assented to which seemed to 
militate against the supremacy of intellect over all feelings and 
passions. In all their wanderings they were always prepared to 
admit the immeasurable greatness of the one incorporeal deity, and 
the impossibility of the human intellect approaching or forming any 
adequate conception of His majesty. 

\\'hen they abandoned the domestic form of worship, they adopted 
tlie congregational, and then not so much with the idea that it was 
pleasing to God, as in order to remind each other of their duties, to 
regulate and govern the spiritual wants of the community, and to incul- 
cate piety towards God, and charity towards each other. 

It need hardly be added that superstiti(m is impossible with minds 
so constituted, and that science must always be the surest and the best 
ally of a religion so pure and exalted, which is based on a knowledge 
of God's works, a consequent appreciation of their greatness, and an 
ardent aspimtion towards that power and goodness which the finite 
intx'llect of man can never hope to reach. 


The most marked characteristics of the Ai-yans is their innate 
passion for self-government. If not absolutely republican, the tendency 
of all their institutions, at all times, has been towards that form, and 
in almost the exact ratio to the purity of the blood do they adopt this 


form of autocracy. If kingly power was over introduced among them, 
it was always in the form of a limited monarchy ; never the uncon- 
trolled despotism of the other races ; and every conceivable check was 
devised to prevent encroachments of the crown, even if such were 
possible among a people so organized as the Aryans always have been. 

With them every town was a municipality, every village a little 
republic, and every trade a separate self-governing guild. Many of 
these institutions have died out, or else fallen into neglect, in those 
communities where equal rights and absolute laws have rendered each 
individual a king in his own person, and every family a republic 
in itself. 

The village system which the Aryans introduced into India is still 
the most remarkable of its institutions. These little republican organ- 
isms have survived the revolutions of fifty centuiies. Neither the 
devastations of war nor the indolence of peace seems to have affected 
theuL Under Brahmin, Buddhist, or Moslem, they remain the same 
unchanged and unchangeable institutions, and neither despotism nor 
anarchy has been able to alter them. They alone have saved India 
from sinking into a state of savage imbecility, under the various hordes 
of conquerors who have at times overrun her; and they, with the 
Vedas and the laws afterwards embodied by Menu, alone remain as 
records of the old Aryan possessors of the Indian peninsula. 

Municipalities, which are merely an enlargement of the Indian 
village system, exist wherever the Eomans were settled, or where the 
Aryan i-aces exist in Europe ; and though guilds are fast losing their 
significance, it was the Teutonic guilds that alone checked and ulti- 
mately supplanted the feudal despotisms of the Celts. 

Caste is another institution of these races, which has always more 
or less influenced all their actions. Where their blood has become so 
impure as it is in India, caste has degenerated into an abuse ; but where 
it is a living institution, it is perhaps as conducive to the proper 
regulation of society as any with which we are acquainted. The one 
thing over which no man can have any control is the accident of his 
birth ; but it is an immense gain to him that he should be satisfied with 
the station in which he finds himself, and content to do his duty in the 
sphere in which he was bom. Caste, properly understood, never inter- 
feres with the accumulation of wealth or power within the limits of the 
class, and only recognizes the inevitable accident of birth ; while the 
fear of losing caste is one of the most salutary checks which has been 
devised to restrain men from acts unworthy of their social position. It 
is an enormous gain to society that each man should know his station, 
and be prepared to perform the duties belonging to it, without the rest- 
less craving of a selfish ambition that would sacrifice everything for the 
sake of the personal aggrandizement of the individual. It is far better 
to acknowledge that there is no sphere in life in which man may not 

F 2 


become as like unto the gods as in any other sphere ; and it is every- 
where better to respect the public good rather than to seek to gratify 
personal ambition. 

The populations of modem Europe have become so mixed that 
neither caste nor any other Aryan institution now exists in its pristine 
purity ; but in the ratio in which a people is Aryan do they possess an 
aristocracy and municipal institutions ; and, what is almost of more 
importance, in that ratio are the people prepared to respect the grada- 
tions of caste in society, and to sacrifice their individual ambition to 
the less brilliant task of doing all the good that is possible in the 
spheres in which they have been placed. 

It is true and so has been found, that an uncontrolled despotism is 
a sharper, a quicker, and a better tool for warlike purposes, or where 
national vanity is to bo gratified by conquest or the display of power ; 
but the complicated and it may be clumsy institutions of the Aryan 
are far more lasting and more conducive to individual self-respect, and 
far more likely to add to the sum of human happiness, and tend more 
clearly to the real greatness and moral elevation of mankind, than any 
human institution wo are yet acquainted with. 

So far as our experience now goes, the division of human society 
into classes or castes is not only the most natural ck)ncomitant of the 
division of labour, but is also the most beneficent of the institutions 
of man ; while the organization of a nation into self-governing munici- 
palities is not only singularly conducive to individual well-being, but 
renders it practically indestructible by conquest, and even imperish- 
able through lapse of time. Those two are the most essentially cha- 
racteristic institutions of the Aryans. 


In morals the Aryans were always monogamic, and with them alone 
does woman always assume a perfect equality of position ; mistress of 
her own actions till mairiiige ; when married, in theory at least, the 
equal sharer in the property and in the duties of the household. Were 
it possible to carry out these doctrines absolutely in practice, they 
would probably be more conducive to human happiness than any of 
those enumerated above; but even a tendency towards them is an 
enormous gain. 

Their institutions for self-government, enumerated above, have 
probably done more to elevate the Aryan race than can well be appre- 
ciated. When every man takes, or may take, his share in governing 
the commonwealth — when every man must govern himself, and respect 
the independence of his neighbour — men cease to be tools, and become 
independent reasoning beings. They are taught self respect, and with 
this oomes love of truth — of those qualities which oommand the respect 


of thoir fellow-men ; and they are likewise taught that control of their 
passions which renders them averse to war ; while the more sober occu- 
]>ations of life prevent the necessity of their seeking, in the wildness of 
excitement, that relief from monotony which so frequently drives other 
races into those excesses the world has had so often to deplore. The 
existence of caste, even in its most modified form, prevents individual 
ambition from having that unlimited career which, among other 
i-aces, has so often sacrificed the public weal to the ambition of an 


The Aryan races employed an alphabet at so early a period of their 
history that we cannot now tell when or how it was introduced among 
them ; and it was, even when we first become acquainted with it, a 
far more perfect alphabet than that of the Semitic races, though appar- 
ently formed on its basis. Nothing in it was dependent on memory. 
It possessed vowels, and all that was necessary to enunciate sounds 
with perfect and absolute precision. In consequence of this, and of 
the perfect structure of their language, they were enabled to indulge 
ia philosophical speculation, to write treatises on grammar and logic, 
and generally to assume a literary position which other races never 
attained to. 

History with them was not a mere record of dates or collection 
of genealogical tables, but an essay on the polity of mankind, to 
which the narrative afforded the illustration ; while their poetry had 
always a tendency to assume more a didactic than a lyric form. It is 
among the Aryans that the Epos first rose to eminence, and the Drama 
was elevated above a mere spectacle ; but even in these the highest 
merit sought to be attained was that they should represent vividly 
events which might have taken place, even if they never did happen 
among men ; while the Celts and the Semites delight in wild imagin- 
ings which never could have existed except in the brain of the poet. 
\Vhen the blood of the Aryan has been mixed with that of other races, 
they have produced a literature eminently imaginative and poetic; 
but in proportion to their purity has been their tendency towards a 
more prosaic style of composition, llie aim of the race has always 
been the attainment of practical common sense, and the possession of 
this quality is their pride and boast, and justly so ; but it is unfortu- 
nately antagonistic to the existence of an imaginative literature, and 
we must look to them more for eminence in works on history and phi- 
losophy than in those which require imagination or creative power. 



These rtiinarks apply with more than double force to the Fine 
Arts than to verbal literature. In the first place a people possessing 
such a power of phonetic utterance never could look on a picture 
or statue as more than a mere subsidiary illustration of the written 
text. A painting may represent vividly one view of what took place 
at one moment of time, but a written narrative can deal with all the 
circumstances and link it to its antecedents and effects. A statue of a 
man cannot tell one-tenth of what a short biography will make plain ; 
and an ideal statue or ideal painting may be a pretty Celtic plaything, 
but it is not what Aryans hanker after. 

With Architecture the case is even worse. Convenience is the 
first thing which the practical common sense of the Aryan seeks, 
and then to gain what he desires by the readiest and the easiest 
means. This done, why should he do more? If, induced by a 
desire to emulate others, he has to make his building ornamental, 
he is >villing to copy what experience has proved to be successful in 
former works, willing to spend his money and to submit to some 
inconvenience ; but in his heart he thinks it useless, and he neither 
will waste his time in thinking on the subject, nor apply those energies 
of his mind to its elaboration, without which nothing great or good 
was ever done in Art. 

In addition to this, the immaterial nature of their faith has 
always deprived the Aryan races of the principal incentive to archi- 
tectural magnificence'. The Turanian and Celtic races always have 
the most implicit faith in ceremonial worship and in the necessity of 
architectural splendour as its indispensable accompaniment. On the 
other hand, the more practical Aryan can never be brought to under- 
stand that prayer is either more sincere or is more acceptable in one 
form of house than in any other. He does not feel that virtue can 
bo increased or vice exterminated by the number of bricks or stones 
that may be heaped on one another, or the foi*m in which they may 
be placed; nor will his conception of the Deity admit of supposing 
that He can be propitiated by palaces or halls erected in honour of 
Him, or that a building in the Middle Pointed Gothic is more accept- 
able than one in the Classic or any other style. 

This want of faith may be reasonable, but it is fatal to poetry 
in Art, and, it is feared, will prevent the Aryans from attaining more 
exoellenoe in Architectural Art at the present time than they have done 
in former ages. 

It is also true that the people are singularly deficient in their 

' Had ibisn been no Peksgi in Greece, there probably would have been no Archl- 
Gvwian period. 


appreciation of colours. Not that actual colour-blindness is more 
common with them than with other races, but the harmony of tints 
is unknown to them. Some may learn, but none feel it; it is a 
matter of memory and an exercise of intellect, but no more. So, too, 
with form. Other — even savage — races cannot go wrong in this 
respect. If the Aryan is successful in art, it is genei-ally in conse- 
ciuence of education, not from feeling ; and, like all that is not innate 
in man, it yields only a secondary gratification, and fails to impress 
his brother man, or to be a real work of Art. 

From these causes the ancient Aryans never erected a single build- 
ing in India when they were pure, nor in that jmrt of India which 
they colonized even after their blood became mixed ; and we do not 
now know what their style was or is, though the whole of that part 
of the peninsula occupied by the Turanians, or to which their 
influence ever extended, is, and always was, covered by buildings, 
vast in extent and wonderful from their elaboration. This, probably, 
also is the true cause of the decline of Architecture and other arts in 
Europe and in the rest of the modem world. Wherever the Aryans 
appear Art flies before them, and where their influence extends utili- 
tarian practical common sense is assumed to be all that man should 
aim at. It may bo so, but it is sad to think that beauty cannot be 
combined with sense. 

Music alone, as being the most phonetic of the fine arts, has 
received among the Aryans a degree of culture denied to the others ; 
but even here the tendency has been rather to develop scientific excel- 
lence than to appeal to the responsive chords of the human heart. 
Notwithstanding this, its power is more felt and greater exeelleiice is 
attained in this science than in any other. It also has escaped the slo- 
venly process of copying, with which the unartistic mind of the Aiyans 
has been content to fancy it was creating Art in other branches. 

If, however, these races have been so deficient in the fine arts, 
they have been as excellent in all the useful ones. Agriculture, manu- 
factures, commerce, ship-building, and road-making, all that tends to 
accumulate wealth or to advance material prosperity, has been deve- 
loped to an extent as great as it is unprecedented, and promise to 
produce results which as yet can only be dimly guessed at. A great, 
and, so far as we can see, an inevitable revolution, is pervading the 
whole world through the devotion of the Arjan races to these arts. 
We have no reason for supposing it will be otherwise than beneficial, 
however much we may feel inclined to regret that the beautiful could 
not be allowed to share a little of that worship so lavishly bestowed 
on the useful. 


It follows, a8 a matter of course, that, with minds so constituted, 
tho Aryans should have cultivated science with earnestness and 
success. The only beauty they, in fact, appreciated was the beauty 
of scientific truth ; tho only harmony they ever really felt was that 
of the laws of nature ; and the only art they ever cared to cultivate 
was that which grouped these truths and their harmonies into forms 
which enabled them to be easily grasped and appreciated. Mathe- 
matics always had especial charms to the Aryan mind ; and, more 
even than this, astronomy was always captivating. So, also, were 
the mechanical, and so, too, the natural sciences. It is to the Aryans 
that Induction owes its birth, and they probably alone have the 
patience and the sobriety to work it to its legitimate conclusions. 

The true mission of tho Aryan races appears to be to pervade the 
world with tho useful and industrial arts, and so tend to reproduce 
that unity which has long been lost, to raise man, not by magnifying 
his individual cleverness, but by accumulating a knowledge of the 
works of God, so tending to make him a greater and wiser, and at the 
same time a humbler and a more religious servant of his Creator. 


Whkn Augusto Comte proposed that classification which made the 
fortune of his philosophy, — when he said that all mankind passed 
thiough tlie theological state in childhood, the metai)hysical in youth, 
and the philosophical or positive in manhood, — and ventured to extend 
this discovery to nations, he had a glimpse, as others have had before 
him, of the beauty of the great harmony which pervades all created 
things. But he had not philosophy enough to see that the one great 
law is so vast and so remote, that no human intellect can grasp it^ 
and that it is only the little fragments of that great scheme which are 
found everywhere which mnn is permitted to understand. 

Had he known as much of ethnographical as he did of mathema- 
tical science, he would have perceived that there is no warrant for this 
daring generalization ; but that nations, in the states which he calls 
the theological, the metaphysical, and the philosophical, exist now and 
coexisted through all the ages of the world to which our historical 
knowledge extends. 

What the Egyptians were when they first appeared on the scene 
they were when they perished under the Greek and Roman sway; — 
what the Chinese always were they now are; — ^the Jews and Arabs 
are unchanged to this day ; — the Celts are as daringly speculative and 
as blindly superstitious now as we always found them ; — and the Aryans 

Pabt 111. CONCLUSION. 73 

of the Vedas or of Tacitus were very much the Bame sober, reasoning, 
unimaginative, and unartistic people as they are at this hour. Progress 
among men, as among the animals, seems to be achieved not so much 
by advances made within the limits of the group, as by the superoession 
of the less finely organized beings by those of a higher class ; — and this, so 
far as our knowledge extends, is accomplished neither by successive 
creations, nor by the gradual development of one species out of another, 
but by the successive prominent appearances of previously developed, 
though partially dormant creations. 

Ethnographers have already worked out this problem to a great 
extent, and arrived at a very considerable degree of certainty, through 
the researches of patient linguistic investigators. But language is in 
itself too impalpable ever to give the science that tangible, local reality, 
which is necessary to its success ; and it is here that Archaeology comes 
so opportunely to its aid. What men dug or built remains where it was 
first placed, and probably retains the first impressions it received; 
and so fixes the era and standing of those who called it into existence : 
so that even those who cannot appreciate the evidence derived from 
grammar or from words, may generally see at a glance what the facts 
of the case really are. 

It is even more important that such a science as Ethnology should 
have two or more methods of investigation at its command. Certainty 
can hardly ever be attained by only one process, unless checked and 
elucidated by others, and nothing can therefore be more fortunate than 
the possession of so important a sister science as that of ArchaBology to 
aid in the search after scientific truth. 

If Ethnology may thus be so largely indebted to Archaeology, the 
converse is also true ; and she may pay back the debt with interest. 
As Archajology and Architecture have hitherto been studied, they, but 
more especially the latter, have been little more than a dry record of 
facts and measurements, interesting to the antiquary, to the profes- 
sional architect, or to the tourist, who finds it necessary to get up a 
ccTtain amount of knowledge on the subject ; but the utmost that has 
liitherto been sought to be attained is a certain knowledge of the forms 
of the art, while the study, as that of one of the most important and 
most instructive of the sciences connected with the history of man, has 
been as a rule neglected. 

Without this the study of Architecture is a mere record of bricks 
and stones, and of the modes in which they were heaped together for 
man's use. Considered in the light of a historical record, it aaj^uires 
not only the dignity of a science, but especial interest as being one 
of those sciences which are most closely connected with man's interests 
and feelings, and the one which more distinctly expresses and more 
clearly records what man did and felt in previous ages, than any other 
study we are acquainted with. 


From this point of view, not only every tomb and every temple- 
but even the rude monoliths and mounds of savages, acquire a dignity 
and interest to which they have otherwise no title ; and man's works 
become not only man's most imperishable record, but one of the best 
means we possess of studying his history, or of understanding his 
nature or his aspirations. 

Rightly understood, Archa9ology is as useful as any other branch of 
science or of art, in enabling us to catch such glimpses as are vouch- 
safed to man of the great laws that govern all things ; and the know- 
ledge that this class of man's works is guided and governed by those 
very laws, and not by the chance efforts of unmeaning minds, elevates 
the study of it to as high a position as that of any other branch of 
human knowledge. 





So long as the gec^rapher confines himself to mapping out the different 
countries of the world, or smaller portions of the earth's surface, he 
finds no difficulty in making a projection which shaU con-ectly represent 
the exact relative position of aU the various features of the land or sea. 
But when he attempts to portray a continent, some distortion neces- 
sarily results ; and when ho undertakes a hemisphere, both distortion 
and exaggeration become inevitable. It has consequently been found 
necessary to resort to some conventional means of portraying the larger 
surfaces of the globe. These avowedly do not represent correctly the 
forms of the countries portrayed, but they enable the geographer to 
ascertain what their distances or relative iX)sitions are by the appli- 
cation of certain nile« and formulae of no great complexity. 

The same thing is true of history. So long as the narrative is 
confined to individual countries or provinces, it may bo perfectly 
consecutive and uninterrupted ; but when two or three nations are 
grouped together, frequent interruptions and recapitulations become 
necessary ; and when universal history is attempted, it seems impossible 
to arrange the narrative so as to prevent these from assuming very 
considerable importance. The utmost that can be done is to devise 
some scheme which shall prevent the repetition from leading to tedious- 
ness, and enable the student to follow the thread of any portion of the 
narrative without confusion or the assumption of any special previous 
knowledge on his })art. 


Bearing these difficulties in mind, it will probably be found con- 
venient to diinde the whole history of architecture into four great 
divisions or parts. 

The first, which may be called " Ancient or Heathen Art," to com- 
prehend all those styles which prevailed in the old world from the dawn 
of history" in Egj'pt till the disruption of the Roman Empire by the 
removal of the capital from Bome to Constantinople in the fourth 

The second to be called either "Mediaeval," or more properly 
'* Christian Art" This again subdivides itself into three easily-under- 
stood divisions. 1. The Bomanesque, or Transitional st}*le, which pre- 
vailed between the ages of Constantino and Justinian ; 2. The Gothic, 
or Western Christian; and 3. The Bj'zantine, or Eastern Christian 
style. Either of these two last might be taken first without incon- 
gruity; but on the whole, it will be convenient, first to follow the 
thread of the history of Gothic art, and return to take up that of 
the Byzantine afterwards. The Western styles form a complete and 
perfect chapter in themselves, based directly on the Bomanesque, but 
borrowing veiy- little and lending less to any other style during their 
existence. They also perished earlier, having died out in the 16 th 
century, while the Byzantine continued to be practised within the 
limits of tlie present century in Bussia and other Eastern countries. 

Another reason for taking the Gothic styles first is that the 
Saracenic spring directly from the Byzantine, and according to this 
arrangement would follow naturally after it 

The third great division of the subject I would suggest might con- 
veniently be denominated "Pagan."* It would comprise all those 
minor miscellaneous stj'les not included in the two previous divisions. 
Commencing with the Sassanian and Saracenic, it would include the 
Buddhist, Hindoo, and Chinese styles, the Mexican and Peruvian, and 
lastly that mysterious gioup which for want of a better name it may be 
convenient to call the " Celtic styles." No very consecutive arrange- 
ment can be formed for these. Nor is it necessary; they generally 
have little connexion with each other, and are so much less important 
than the others that their mode of treatment is of far less consequence, 
and, in the ])resent state of our knowledge r^arding them, a slight 
degree of reitemtion may be considered advantageous. 

The fourth and last great division is that of the " Modem or Copying 
styles of Architecture," meaning thereby those which are the products 

* TLe derivation of the two >\ordd ■ or people ; and Pagan from Pagus^ Paganiy 
Heathen and Pagan seenis to indicate the ! a village, or villagers, Botli are uaed here 
relative importance of tlicuo two terniB < not as terms of reproach, but as indicative 
very mncli in the degree it is here wished of their being non-Christian, which is what 
to express, lleutlien is generally under- : it is widiod to exprvss, and was the ori- 
siood to be derived fnmi iBwos^ a nation giual intention of the terms. 


of the renaissance of the classical styles, that marked the epoch of the 
cinqueeento period. These have since that time prevailed generally 
in Europe to the present day, and are now making the tour of the 
world. Within the limits of the present century it is true that the 
copying of the classical styles has to some extent been superseded by 
a more servile imitation of those of mediaeval art. The forms have 
consequently changed, but the principles remain the same. 

It would of course be easy to point out minor objections to this or 
to any scheme, but on the whole it will be found to meet the exigencies 
of the case as we now know it, as well or pei'haps better than any other. 
The greatest difficulty in carrying it out is to ascertain how far the 
geographical arrangement should be made to supersede the chrono- 
logical and ethnographical. Whether, for instance, Italy should be 
considered as a whole, or if the buildings of the eastern coast should not 
be described as belonging to the Byzantine, and those of the western 
coast to the Gothic kingdom ? Whether the description of the Temple 
at Jerusalem should stop short with the rebuilding by Zorobabel, or 
be continued till its final completion under Herod? If the former 
course is pursued, we cut in two a perfectly consecutive narrative ; if 
the latter, we get far in advance of our chronological sequence. 

In both of these instances, as in many others, it is a choice of diffi- 
culties, and where frequently the least strictly logical mode of proceeding 
may be found the most convenient. 

After all, the real difficulty lies not so much in arranging the 
materials as in weighing the relative importance to be assigned to each 
division. In wandering over so vast a field it is difficult to prevent 
personal predilection from inteifering with purely logical criticism. 
Although architecture is the most mechanical of the fine arts, and 
consequently the most amenable to scientific treatment, still as a fine 
art it must be felt to be appreciated, and when the feelings come into 
play the reason is sometimes in danger. Though strict impartiality has 
been aimed at in assigning the true limits to each of the divisions above 
pointed out, few probably will be of the same opinion as to the degree 
of success which has been achieved in the attempt. 



Pabt L 




Ist dynasty ... Thinito 252 



> • 

Accession of Menes, 1st king 300f> 

Ten dynasties of kings, reigning 
sometimes coQtemporuncoiisIy in 
Upper and in Lower Egypt ; at other 
times both divisions were united 
under one king. 


... Momphitc 214 

... ff ^ox 

... Elephantine 248 

... Memphite 203 

,, 70 days? 

, 14(5 The total duration of tlioir reigns, 

... Heraclenpolite 100? as nearly as can be estimated, was 

,, 185 1335 years. 




... Thebans 43 Commenced 2571 

,, 240 over Upper, 188 over Lower Egypt. 



... Dio8|)olitc8 453 Five dynasties of Shepherd or 

... Xoite 484 native kings reigning or existing 

... SI lephcrds 284 contemporaneously in four series 

... Hellenes 518 in difForont parts of Egypt during 

...Shepherds 151 511 years. 








... Theban 393 


t » 

«•• ,, ..'■...•.•••«••.•.. J.OtJ 

... Tanite 130 

... Bubaslito 120 

... Tanite 89 

... Saite 44 

...Ethiopian 44 

... Sa!te 155 

Over all Egypt 1820 


Exode of Jews, 1312. 




Temple of Jerusalem destroyed, 972. 





Persian Invasion imder Cand»ytes 528^ 

♦ The above scheme of Egyptian Chro- there seems to be noUiing in the subee- 

nology was published by me in the * True quent researches or discoveries which at 

Principled of Beauty in Art,' in 1849 ; and all invalidates the reasoning on which tlie 

the data on which it was based were de- table was founded, it is reproduced here 

tailed in the Appendix to that work. As as originally set forth. 

Uk. I. Cif. I. INTRODUCTORY. 79 





In any consecutive narrative of the architectural undertakings of 
mankind the description of what was done in Egypt necessarily 
commences the series, not only because the records of authentic history 
are found in the Valley of the Nile long before the traditions of other 
nations had assumed anything like tangible consistency, but because, 
from the earliest dawn down to the time when Christianity struck 
down the old idolatry, the inhabitants of that mysterious land were 
essentially and pre-eminently a building race. Were it not for this wo 
should be left with the dry bones of the skeleton of her history, which 
is all that is left us of the dynasties of Manetho ; or with the fables in 
which ignorant and credulous European travellers expressed their 
wonder at a civilization they could not comprehend. 

As the case now stands, the monuments of Egypt give life and reality 
to their whole history. It is impossible for any educated man capable 
of judging of the value of evidence to wander among the Pyi^amids and 
t*)mbs of Memphis, the Temples of Thebes, or the vast structures 
erected by the Ptolemys or Caesars, and not to feel that he has before 
him a chapter of history more authentic than wo possess of any nation 
at all approaching it in antiquity, and a picture of men and manners 
more vivid and more ample than remains to us of any other people 
who have passed away. 

As we wander among the tombs or temples of Egypt we see the 
very chisel -marks of the mason, and the actual colours of the painter 
which were ordered by a Suphis or a Khamses, and we stand face to 
face with the works tlie progress of which they watched, and which 
they designed in order to convey to posterity what their thoughts and 
feelings were, and what they desired to record for the instruction of 
future generations. All is there now, and all who care may learn what 
these old kings intended should be known by their remotest posterity. 

Immense progress has been made in unravelling the intricacies 
of Egyptian history since the time when Champollion, profiting 
by the discovery of Young, first translated the hieroglyphical in- 



Bcriptions that cover the walls of Egyptian buildings. Of late years 
it has been too frequently assumed that his works, with those of 
Rossilini, of Wilkinson and Lepsius, and the numerous other authors 
who have applied themselves to Egyptology, had told us all we are 
ever likely to know of her history. In so far as the epochs of the 
great Tharaonic dynasties of Thebes are concerned this may be partially 
tnie, but it is only since M. ]!^Iarriette undertook the systematic 
exploration of the great Xecroplis of Memphis that we have been 
enabled to realize the importance of the older djiiasties, and become 
aware of the completeness of the records they have left behind them. 
l^Iuch as wo have learned during the last forty years, recent explo- 
rations have taught us that the soil of Egypt is not half exhausted yet ; 
and everj' day our knowledge is assuming a consistency and completeness 
as satisfectory as it is wonderful. 

Although there are still minor differences of opinion with regard to 
the details of Egyptian chronology, still the divergences between the 
various systems proposed are gradually narrowing in extents The 
sequence of events is certain, and accepted by all. The initial date, 
and the adjustments depending on it, are alone in dispute. The truth 
is that every subsequent step in the investigation has tended more and 
more to prove the correctness of the data furnished by the lists of 
Manetho, and the only important question is, "what is Wanetho?" 
His work is lost The only real extracts we have from the original are 
those in ' Josephus contra Apion.' ITie lists in Eusebius and byncellus 
or Africanus have avowedly l)een adjusted to suit preconceived theories 
of lUblical chronology ; but on the whole a great preponderance of evi- 
dence seems in favour of assuming that he really intended to fix the 
year 3906 as the initial year of the reign of Menes,* or some year w^ithin 
a very short distance of that date. Some years ago this would have 
seemed to suffice, but so many new monuments have been disinterred of 
late, so many new names of kings added to our lists, that the tendency 
is now rather to extend than to contract this limit of duration. 

Be this as it may, what we really do know absolutely is that there 
was an old kingdom of pyramid-builders, comprising the first ten 
dynasties of Manetho, who reigned at Memphis ; that these, after a 
period of decadence, were superseded by kings of a different race 
coming from the south ; and after a short period of glory, these were 
conquered by an Asiatic race of hated Shepherd kings. 

After five ceftturies of foreign domination, the Shepherds in their 
turn were driven out, and the new kingdom founded. This, after 
witnessing the glories of the 18th and lOih dynasties, declined during 
the next seven dynasties till they were stnick down by the Persian 

1 Syncelliu>, Chron. p. 98, ed. Dindorff, Bodd, 1829. 


A third period of architoctural magnificence arose with the 
Ptolemies, and was continued' by the Caesars on nearly the same scale 
of magnificence as the second kingdom ; but wanting its exuberant 
nationality, and fax below the quiet grandeur of the earlier epoch. 

In counting backwards the dates of these dynasties, the first 
authentic synchronism we meet with is that of Shishak, the first king 
of the 22nd dynasty, cotemporary with Hehoboam, about 970 B.a 

The next is the Exode of the Jews, which took place 1312 b.c., under 
the reign of Amenoph, the third king of the 19th dynasty of Manetho. 
Many would place it earlier, but none probably would bring that event 
down to a more modem date. 

From this date Josephus tells us that Manetho counted 518 years 
to the expulsion of the Shepherds, and 511 for the duration of their 
sojourn in Egypt,^ we thus get back to 2340 for the first year of 
Salatis. There then remain only fifteen centuries and a half, in which 
we have to arrange the two great Theban dynasties (the 11th and 
12th), which reigned for more than two centuries over the whole of 
Egypt; while the 12ih seems to have extended some distance into the 
period occupied by the Shepherds. We are thus left with little more 
than 1300 years over which to spread the ten first dynasties, notwith- 
standing that some 60 or 70 of their royal sepulchral pyramids still 
adorn the banks of the Kile ; and we have many names to which no 
tombs can be attached, and many pyramids may have perished during 
the 5000 years which have elapsed since the greater nimiber of them 
were erected. 

Long as these periods may to some appear, they are certainly the 
shortest that any one familar with the recent progress of Egyptian 
research would be willing to assign to them. But in whatever light 
they may be viewed, they sink into utter insignificance when compared 
with the periods that must have elapsed before Egypt could have 
reached that stage of civilization, in which we find her when her exist- 
ence first dawns upon us. K one point in Egyptian history is proved 
with more certainty than another, it is that the great pyramids of Gizeh 
were erected by the kings of the 4th dynasty ; and it seems impossible to 
find room for the now ascertained facts of Egyptian chi-onology, unless 
we place their erection at least 3000 years before the Christian era. 

No one can possibly examine the interior of the Great Pyramid 
without being struck with astonishment at the wonderful mechanical 
sHU displayed in its construction. The immense blocks of granite 
brought from Syene — a distance of 500 miles — ]X)lished like glass, and 
so fitted that the joints can hardly be detected. Nothing can be more 
wonderful than the extraordinary amount of knowledge displayed in 

* JoBephus contra Apion, L 14, 16 and 26. 
VOL. I. O 


the construction of the discharging chambers over the roof of the 
principal apartment, in the alignment of the sloping galleries, in the 
provision of ventilating shafts, and in all the wonderful contrivances 
of the structure. All these, too, are carried out with such precision, 
that, notwithstanding the immense superincxmibent weight, no settle- 
ment on any part can be detected to the extent of an appreciable 
fraction of an inch. Nothing more perfect, mechanically, has ever 
been erected since that time ; and we ask ourselves in vain, how long 
it must have taken before men acquired 8uch experience and such 
skill, or were so perfectly organised, as to contemplate and complete 
such undertakings. 

Around the base of the pyramid are found nimierous structural 
tombs, whose walls bear the cartouche of the same king— Suphis — 
whase name was found by Colonel Howard Vyse in one of the previously 
unopened chambers of the Great Pyramid.* These are adorned with 
paintings so numerous and so complete, as to enable us to realize with 
singular completeness the state of Egyptian society at that early period. 

On their walls the owner of the tomb is usually represented seated, 
offering first-fruits on a simple table-altar to an unseen god. He in 
generally accomi)anied by his wife, and sunx)undcd by his stewards 
and servants, who enumerate his wealth in honied cattle, in asses, in 
sheep and goats, in geese and ducks. In other pictures some are 
ploughing and sowing, some reaping or thrasliing out the com, while 
others are tending his tame monkeys or cranes, and other domesticated 
pets. Music and dancing add to the circle of domestic enjojTuents, 
and fowling and fishing occupy his days of leisure. No sign of soldiers 
or of warlike strife appear in any of these pictures; no arms, no 
chariots or horses. No camels suggest foreign travel Everything 
there represented speaks of peace at home and abroad,* of agricultural 
wealth and consequent content In all these pictures the men are 
represented with an ethnic and artistic truth that enables us easily to 
recognise their race and station. The animals are not only easily 
distinguishable, but the characteristic peculiarities of each species is 
seized with a power of generalization seldom if ever surpassed; and 
the hieroglyphic system which forms the legend and explains the whole, 
was as complete and perfect then as at any future period. 

More striking than even the jmintings are the portrait-statues 
which have recently been discovered in the secret recesses of these 
tombs ; nothing more wonderfully ti*uthful and realistic has been done 

* Vyse, *Oi)cmtionH on the I'ymiuids at repreuented us Hluyiiig au Atuatic ciieiuy. 
Gizeh in 1837,* vol. i. p. ::7U, ut m^. \ It is the only sign of strife which lias yet 

9 At Wudy Mogharu, in the Hinaitic been difeoovercd bi^longing to this ancient 
ixjnimnila, a king of tlie 41)1 dynusty is kingilum. Lciwius, Abt. ii., pi. 39. 

Bk. 1. Ch. I. INTUODUCTOHY. 83 

since that time, till the invention of photography, and even that ctin 
hardly represent a man witli snch unflattering truthfulness as these old 
coloured terracotta porfcmits of the sleek rich men of the pymmid 

Wonderful as all this maturity of art may be when found at so early 
a period, the problem becomes still more perplexing when we again ask 
om-selves how long a people must have lived and recorded their 
experience before they came to realise and aspire to an eternity such as 
the building of these pyramids shows that they sacrificed everything to 
attain. One of their great aims was to preserve the body intact for 
3000 years, in order that the soul might again be united with it when 
the day of judgment arrived. But what taught them to contemplate 
such periods of time with confidence, and, stranger still, how did they 
learn to realise so daring an aspiration ? 

Mor is our wonder less when we ask ourselves how it happened that 
such a people became so thoroughly organized at that early age as to 
be willing to midcrtake the greatest architectural works the world has 
since seen in honour of one man from among themselves? A king 
without an army, and with no claim, so far as we can see, to such an 
honour beyond the common consent of all, which could hardly have 
been obtained except by the title of long inherited services acknow- 
ledged by the community at large. 

It is possible there may have been nations as old and as early 
civilised as the Egyptians; but they were not builders, and their 
memory is lost. It is to their architecture alone that we owe the pre- 
servation of what we know of this old people. And it is the knowledge 
so obtained that adds such interest to the study of their art. 

In the present state of our knowledge it may seem an idle specula- 
tion to suggest that the Egyptian and Chinese are two fragments of one 
great primordial race, widely separated now by the irruption of other 
Turanian and Arj'an races between them ; but this at least is certain, 
that in manners and customs, in arts and polity, in religion and civili- 
zation, these two people more closely resemble one another than any 
other two nations which have existed since, even when avowedly of 
similar race and living in proximity to one another. 

At the earliest period at which Chinese history opens upon us, we find 
the same amount of civilization maintaining itself utterly improgres- 
sively to the present day. The same peaceful industry' and agricultural 
wealth accompanied by the same outwardly pleasing domestic relations 
and apparent content. The same exceptional mode of writing. The 
same want of power to assimilate with surroiuidiug nations. Both 
hating war, but reverencing their kings, and counting their chronology 
by dynasties exactly as the Egyptians have always done. Their religions 

G 2 


seem wonderfully alike, and both are characterized by the same fearless- 
ness of death, and the same calm enjoyment in the contemplation of 
its advent.* 

In fact there is no peculiarity in the old kingdom of Egypt that has 
not its counterpart in China at the present day, though more or less 
modified, perhaps, by local circumstances ; and there is nothing in the 
older system which wo cannot imderstand by using proper illustrations, 
derived from what we see passing under our immediate observation in 
the fer East. The great lesson we learn from the study of the histoiy 
of China as bearing on that of Egypt is, that all idea of the impossibility 
of the recorded events in the latter country is taken away by reference 
to the other. Neither the duration of the Egyptian dynasties, nor the 
early perfection of her civilization, or its strange persistency, can bo 
objected to as improbable. What we know has happened in Asia in 
modem times may certainly have taken place in Africa, though at an 
earlier period. 

^ By a singular coincidence, China has i Tuepings been successful, wo should liavo 
been suffering from a Hyksos domination i witnessed in China the exact counterpart 
of Tartar conquerors, precisely as Egypt of what took place in Egypt when the 
did aflor the periml of the Pyramid | 1st native kings of the 18th dynasty 

builders, and, strange to say, for about 
the same period — five centuries. Had the 

expelled the hated race. the pyramids and contemporary monuments. 85 



Leaving these speculations to be developed more fully in the sequel, 
let us now turn to the pyramids — the oldest, largest, and most myste- 
rious of all the monuments of man's art now existing. All those in 
Egypt are situated on the left bank of the Nile, just beyond the 
cultivated ground, and on the edge of the desert, and all the principal 
examples within what may fairly be called the Necropolis of Memphis. 
Sixty or seventy of these have been discovered and explored, all which 
appear to be royal sepulchres. This alone, if true, would suffice to 
justify us in assigning a duration of 1000 yeai-s at least to the dynasties 
of the pyramid-builders, and this is about the date we acquire from 
other sources. 

The three great pyramids of Gizeh are the most remarkable and the 
best known of aU those of I^ypt Of these the first, erected by Cheops, 
or, as he is now more correctly named, Suphis, is the largest ; but the 
next, by Chepheren, his successor, is scarcely inferior in dimensions ; 
the third, that of Mycerinus, is very much smaller, but excelled the two 
others in this, that it had a coating of beautiful red granite from Syene, 
while the other two were rev^ted only with the beautiful limestone of 
the country. Part of this coating still lemains near the top of the 
second ; and Colonel Vyse * was fortunate enough to discover some of 
the coping-stones of the Great Pyramid buried in the rubbish at its 
base. These are sufficient to indicate the nature and extent of the 
whole, and to show that it was commenced from the bottom and car- 
ried upwards ; not at the top, as it has sometimes been thoughtlessly 

The dimensions of these three, as ascertained by the copings, are 
as follows : — 

Square of Heiirbt ^^^ *" Anglo of Angle of 

base. neigm, square fett. side. passage. 

Feet Feet. o ' o » 

Cheops 764 480 543,096 51'50 26*41 

Chepheren ... 707 454 499,849 52-20 25*55 

MyoerinuB ... 354 218 125,316 51* 2622 

* Col. H. Vyae, * Operations carried on 
at the Pyramids of Gizeh in 1837.' Lond. 

^ The measores quoted in the text are 
all taken from the elaborate surveys made 
by Mr. Penring for Colonel Vyse, which are 

by far the most complete and correct which 
have yet been published. It is necessary, 
however, to warn tlie reader that Mr. Pcr- 
ring published two sets of measurements, 
those from actual observation, which are 
those followed in the text, and another set 


From this it will bo seen that the area of the Great Pyramid (more 
than 13 acres) is more than twice the extent of that of St. l^eter's at 
Rome, or of any other building in the world. Ita height is equal to the 
highest spire of any cathedral in Europe ; for, though it has been 
attempted to erect higher buildings, in no instance has this yet 
been successfully achieved. Even the third pyramid covers more 
ground than any Gothic cathedral, and the mass of materials it contains 
fer surpasses that of any erection we possess in Europe. 

• All the pyramids (with one exception) face exactly north, and have 
their entrance on that side — a circumstance the more remarkable, as 
the later builders of Thebes appear to have had no notion of orientation, 
but to have placed their buildings and tombs so as to avoid regularity, 
and facing in every conceivable direction. Instead of the entrances 
to the pyramids being level, they all slope downwards — generally at 
angles of about 26"* to the horizon— a circimistance which has led to an 
infinity of specidation, as to whether they were not observatories, and 
meant for the observation of the pole-star, <fec.* All these theories, 
however, have failed, for a variety of reasons it is needless now to 
discuss ; but among others it may be mentioned that the angles are 
not the same in any two pyramids, though erected within a few years 
of one another, and in the twenty which were measured by Colonel 
Vyso they vary from 22^ 35' to 34^ 5'. The angle of the inclination 
of the side of the pyramid to the horizon is more constant, varying 
only from 51^ 10' to 52*^ 32', and in the Gizeh pyramids it would appear 
that the angle of the passage was intended to have been about one-half 
of this. Beyond this it is difficult to proceed, unless from the following 
simple calculation we derive an insight into the principles which seem to 
have guideil their designers. Divide the circle into 28 parts, which, as 
the Egj-ptians used weeks and lunar reckoning, is by no means an 
improbable division. Let every 28th part, which will thus be equal 
to 12"*857, be represented by a. Multiplying this by 2, 3, 4, and 5, 
and we obtain thereby very nearly the mean angle of all the different 
parts of the pj'ramid.* But as no two pyramids follow the same 

corrocted according to hLs theory of what 
they ought to liave been, supposing every 
part to have been set out of an even num- 
bc?r of Egyptian cubits. In most instances 

his tlieory agrees pretty closely with his 
observations, but is generally more likely 
to mislead than guide the reader. 

I They are situated in latitude SQT N. 

Gn>«t Second Third i^"?\';."SS!*S'. 

I»>Tamid. Pyramid. IVrnniid. '^ drele (a) 

SAngleADn 51° 20' 52^21' 51° 10' 4tf = 5l-428 

,, DAG 77 19 75 4 77 38 6a = 77-142 

,, ACB 41 28 42 30 41 18 3a=38-571 

CAB^ 97 3 94 59 97 23 7Ja=r96-428 

ABF 58 68 24 58 C 4} =57*856 

., BAF 63 59 62 60 63 4»i 5a = 64-285 

26 33 ?) ... 25 55 27 M 2a = 25-714 

1 1 the pyramids and contemporary monuments. 87 

nile, it is obvious that this or any other explanation if strictly 
correct as regards one, must fail in being equally applicable to the 

The most plausible theory seems to be, that the faces of the pyramid 
were intended to be practically 4 equilateral triangles, laid against 
one another, and meeting at the apex. For instance, in the three 
great pyramids at Gizeh, the ratios of the sloping edges to the base are 
as follows : — 

Great Pyramid 764 feet 720 feet 44 feet 

Second Pyramid 707 672 ,. 35 ,, 

ThirdPyramid 354 330 ., 24 

• « 

It will be observed that the difference is least — about 5 per cent — 
in the second pyramid, the one which retains the greatest part of its 
coping ; and there may be some error in the measurement of the others 
derived from a single coping-stone. 

As regards any other people than the Egyptians this might be con- 
sidered a sufficient explanation — all the other parts being multiples or 
sub-multiples of the angles derived from this fact, but the Egyptians 
were such excellent mathematicians and such perfect builders in those 
times, that this can only be considered as an approximate solution 
of the problem. It is, however, one sufficient for our empirical rule 
for attaining the general form and dimensions of a pyramid, to use the 
multiples given in the preceding page. 

To the principal dimensions of the Great Pyramid given above, it 
may be added that the entrance is about 47 ft. 6 in. above the base, 
on the 1 5th step or platform. There are in all 203 such steps. Their 
average height is nearly 2 ft 6 in., but they diminish in height — 
generally speaking, but not uniformly — towards the top. The summit 
now consists of a platform 32 ft. 8 in. square ; so that about 24 ft. 
is wanting, the present actual height being 456 ft. It contains 2 
chambers above-ground, and 1 cut in the rock at a considerable depth 
y>elow the foundations. 



The passages and clmmbeTs are worthy of the maffi ; all are lined 
wjih polished granite ; and the iugenniiy and pains that have been 
taken to render them solid and secure, and to prevent their being 
cmehed by the superincumbent masB, raise our idea of Egyptian sdeuce 
higher than even the bidk of the building itoelf could do. 

Towards the exterior, where the prcsanre ia not great, the roof is 
flat, though it is probable that even there the weight is thronghont 
dischai^ed by 2 stonee, sloping up at a certain angle to where they 
meet, as at the entrance. Towards the centre of the pyramid, how- 
ever, the passage becomes 28 ft, high, and assumes the form of inverted 
stairs, as shown in the section (fig. 1), till it contracts so much at 
the top that no pressure can hurt it Kowhere, however, ia this 
ingenuity more shown than in the royal chamber, which measures 
17 ft. 1 in. by 34 ft 3 in., and 10 ft in height The walls are lined 
j^^ and the roof ia formed of splendid 

"V^.^ slabs of Syenite, but above the 

Y '^^^<*W^ /^ roof 4 successive chambers, as 

' ^t^^ shown in the annexed section 

A^r^_- '^"' - (fig. 2), have been formed, each 

^ ~g^^ FV I. divided from the other by slabs of 

W ^^_^ " ^^ granite, polished on their lower 

WT,*' "* %t B^ suriaoea, but left rough on (he 

H|^^H| S^K >'PP^^> '^^ above those a 5th 

^^^^^H^ aUni chamber is formed of 2 sloping 

l^^Hr ^^v" blocks to discharge the weight of 

the whole. The first of these 
ir ruHei! Id chambers has long been known ; 
the upper four wore discovered 
and first entered by Colonel Vyee, and it was in one of these that 
he discovered the name of the founder. This was not engraved as 
a record, but scribbled in red paint on the stones, apparently as a 
quarry-mark, or as an address to the king, and accompanied by some- 
thing like directions for their position in the building. The interest 
that attaches to these inscriptions consists in the certainly of their 
being contemporary records, in their proving that Suphis was the 
founder of the Great Pyramid, and consequently fixing its relative date 
beyond all possibility of cavil. This is the only really virgin diaoavery 
in the pyramids, as they have all been opened either in the time of the 
Greeks or Itomans, or by the Mahometans, and an nnrifled temb of 
this age is stUl a desideratum, Until such is hit upon we must remain 
in ignorance of the real mode of sepulture in those days, and of the 
purpose of many of the arrangements in these mysterious boOdings.' 

4bHmnd kmob duunben in tombs vhirh I noUiing has yet been paUished. 


The portcullises which invariably close the entrances of the sepul- 
chral chamber in the pyramids are among the most curious and inge- 
nious of the arrangements of these buildings. Generally they consist 
of great cubical masses of granite, measuring 8 or 10 ft. each way, and 
consequently weighing 50 or 60 tons, and even more. These were 
fitted into chambers prepared during the construction of the building, 
but raised into the upper parts, and, being lowered after the body was 
deposited, closed the entrance so effectually that in some instances it 
has been found necessary either to break them in pieces, or to cut a 
passage round them to gain admission to the chambers. They gene- 
rally slide in grooves in the wall, to which they fit exactly, and alto- 
gether show a degree of ingenuity and forethought very remarkable, 
considering the early age at which they were executed. 

In the second pyramid one chamber has been discovered, partly 
aboveground, partly cut in the rock. In the third the chambers are 
nimierous, all excavated in the rock ; and from the tunnels that have been 
driven by explorers through the superstructures of these two, it is very 
doubtful whether anything is to be found aboveground. It is observable 
that the measurements of the third pyramid are as nearly as possible the 
exact half of those of the second. This cannot have been unintentional. 

ITie exceptional pyramid above alluded to is that of Saccara, shown 
in the annexed plan and section (woodcut No. 8), both to the scale 
of 100 ft. to 1 in. It is the only pyramid that does not face exactly 
north and south. It is nearly of the same general dimensions with the 
third pyramid, or that of Mycerinus ; but its outline, the disposition 
of its chambers, and the hieroglyphics found in its interior, all would 
seem to point it out as an imitation of the old form of mausolea by some 
king of a fSw more modem date. Some, however, of the more recent 
authorities seem inclined to consider this pyramid as the oldest, instead 
of the most modem, and to ascribe it to Mnevis the 4th king of the 1st 
dynasty, assuming that the hieroglyphics, &c., were added afterwards. 
Further research will be required to settle this point. For the present 
it is sufficient to know that it lies outside the regular series of pyramids, 
and of a date either anterior or posterior to them ; but most probably 
the latter. 

All the old pyramids do not follow the simple outline of those of 
Gizeh. That at Dashoor, for instance, rises to half its height with a 
slope of 64° to the horizon, but is finished at the angle of 45°, giving 
it a very exceptional appearance ; and that of Meydoon has more the 
appearance of a tower, its angle being 74° 10'. Two smaller towers 
rise from its simmiit, in the manner in which it is supposed Assyrian 
pyramids were usually constructed. It indeed seems jnot to have been 
unusual to build pyramids in storeys or stages, each less than the other ; 
though it is possible that in this case it may have been only a 
temporary or preparatory stage, and that it was intended eventually 


pnvaU oT SumTL Fnw O-lnnrl VjwV •«rk. SmIf IM IL to I tn. 

orthodox form of a etraight- 

to Hinooth tho whole down to the i 
sided pyramid. 


Aroimd the pyramids not only at Gizeli, but at Saccara, indeed, 
wherever they exist, numberlesB smaller sepulchres are found, which 
appear to have been appropiated to private individuals as the pyramids 
were — so far as wo can ascertain — reserved for kings or at all events for 
persons of royal blood. These have as yet been only partially explored 
and still more imperfectly described. Their general form is that of 
a truncated pyramid, low, and looking externally like a house with 
sloping walls, with only one door leading to tho interior, though they 
may contain several apartments, and no attempt is made to conceal the 
entrance. The body seems to have been preserved from profanation by 
being hid in a well of considerable depth, tho opening Into which was 
concealed in tho thickness of the walls. 

Unlike tho pyramids, the walls are covered with the paintings above 
aUuded to, and everything in this " eternal dwelling" ' of the dead is 
made to resemble the abodes of the 
living ; as was afterwards the case 
with tho Etruscans. It is owing to 
this circumstance tliat wo are able 
not only to realize so perfectly the 
civil life of the Egyptians at this pe- 
riod, but to fix the dates of tho whole 
series by identifying the names of 
the kings who built the pyramids 
with those on tho walls of the 
tombs that surround them.' 

Like all early arcliiteoture, that 

of these tombs shows evident symp- 

toms of having been borrowed fiom 
a wooden original. Tho lintels of 
the doorways are rounded, and the 
walls mere square posts, grooved 
and jointed together, every part of 
it being as unlike a btone archi- 
tecture as can possibly be conceive<l. Yet the pyramids themselves, and 
those tombs which are found outside them, are generally far removed 

1 Diodoru^ i. 51. I liuu who has not (seen tli« buElilings tlieni- 

' When M. Mariette'e reoent discoveries s-Itpb. At present no uuftipient iluta exL.t 
in theue tojnbe hIiuII hAve been given to to enable olliera lo nalizc anil verify Hie 
the worlil in a biDgibIc fonn, it will cimble I eitranrdinDry revolution it prcBents to un. 
this chapter uf the history of urt lo be ' It is 2000 ycnrs older, and infinitely more 
written with a completeness nnd ii i-oility. varied and vivid than tho Awyrinn picturpa 
of which no one ran well have a concep- I whieh rorcntly pxcitod bo much interpHt. 




from tho forms employed in timber Btructurea ; and it is only when we 
find tho Egyptians indulging in decorative art tliat vo trace this more 
primitive style. There arc two doorways of this class in tho British 
Mnseom, and many in that of Berlin. One engraved in Lepsins's work 
(woodcut No. 9) gives a fair idea of this style of decorative art, in the 
most elaborate form in which we now know it. It is possible that some 
ct its forms may have been derived &om brick architecture, but the lintel 
certainly was of wood, and so it may be suspected were the majority of 
its features. It certainly is a transitional form, and though we only find 
it in stone, none of its peculiarities were derived from lithic arts. Per- 
haps one of the best illustrations of tho architoctnral forma, of that day 
was tho BaroophagUB of Mycerinus, unfortunately lost on its way to 
England. It represented a palace, with all the poculiarities found on a 
larger scale in the buildings which sorronnd the pyramid, and with that 
peculiar comioo and still more singular roll or ligature on the angles, 
most evidotitly a carpentry form, bnt which the style retained to its 
latest day. 

SATCOphAglU Of M JCf Tlno^ 

In Tbiid Fyrimld. 

In many of these tombs square piers are found supporting the roof, 
sometimes, but rarely, with an abacus, and generally without any carved 
work, though it is more than probable they were originally pajntod with 
some device, a[>on wliich they depended for their ornament. In most 
instances they look more like fragments of a wall, of which the inter- 
vening spaces had been cut away, than pillars in the sense in which we 
usually understand the word ; and in every cose in the early ages they 
must be looked upon more as utilitarian expedients than as parts of an 
ornamental style of architecture. 

Till very recently no temples had been discovored which could with 
certainty bo ascribed to the age of the pyramid builders ; one, however, 
was excavated a few years i^, &om tho sand close beside tho great 
Sphinx in front of the second pyramid, and others it is said, have since 
been found, at Saocara and elsewhere ; but no account of them has yet 
been pnUished. 

Bk. L Ch. II. 



11. Sketch plan of Temple near 
the Sphinx. From Donaldson. 
Scale 100 ft to lin. 

That at Gizeh is not remarkable for its dimensions, the extreme 
length being only about 100 feet, the extreme breadth the same.^ The 
principal chamber in the form of a cross is supported by piers, simple 
prisms of Syenite granite, without base or capi- 
tal, and supporting architraves as simple in out- 
line as themselves. The roof of this chamber has 
entirely disappeared, but was no doubt originally 
of the same material The walls are generally 
wainscoted with immense slabs of alabaster, or 
of syenite beautifully polished, but with sloping 
joints and uneven beds — a form of masonry not 
uncommon in that age. No sculpture or in- 
scription of any sort is found on the walls of 
this temple,* no ornament, or symbol, nor any 
image, in the sanctuary. Statues and tablets of Cephrenes, the builder 
of the second pyramid, were however found in the well, and in places 
clearly showing that it belonged to his time. 

The exterior of this temple has not yet been freed from the sand in 
which it has so long lain buried, and there being no image and no 
inscription it remains somewhat doubtful to whom or to what purpose 
it was dedicated. Its position, however, at a distance of 60 or 70 feet 
from the great Sphinx and its being placed symmetrically alongside of 
it, renders it highly probable that it was dedicated to that great image. 

A tablet is said to have been discovered, in which Suphis, the 
builder of the Great Pyramid, records some repairs he had done to 
the Sphinx.' If this is correctly read, it proves its existence before 
the pyramids, and long before, if it required renovation at that time. As 
such it is not only the most colossal, but the oldest idol of the human 
i"aoe of which wo have now any knowledge. It does not apparently 
represent a heavenly being, but seems intended to symbolize the 
strength of an animal added to the intellect of a man. A combination 
we afterwards find repeated in so many forms in Assyria, but hardly 
even there considered as a god. 

Whether or not the temple and the Sphinx belong to one another, 
this at least seems certain, that they are the oldest examples of their 
respective classes which now exist, and consequently so deeply inte- 

* These dimensions are taken from Pro- 
fessor Donaldson's plan, published in the 
Transactions of the Institute of British Ar- 
chitects, Feb. ] 801. It, however, cannot 
bo implicitly relied upon, not from any 
fault of the professor's, but because he was 
closely watched, and prevented as far as 
possible from taking measurements or 
notes. As it is the only thing published, 
it must suffice for the present. 

^ Lucian, * De Syria Dea,' ed. Reetzin, 
torn. iii. p. 451, alludes to the fact of the 
old temples of the Egyptians having no 

' * Bevue des Deux Mondes,* Ist April, 
1865, p. 675, et seq. In this article M. 
Benan must be considered as the mouth- 
piece of M. Mariette. It is not a satis- 
factory form of publication, but it is all 
we yet have. 


resting as to make us long for a more complete illustration of them than 
has yet been given to the world. The temple, which is being recovered 
from oblivion, is a new form, and when made known may lead to the 
most important rectification of our ideas on the subject. 

In the present transitional state of our knowledge of the architectural 
art of the pyramid builders, it is difficult to form any distinct judgment 
as to its merits. The early Egyptians built neither for beauty nor for 
use, but for eternity, and to this last they sacrificed every other feeling. 
In itself nothing can be less artistic than a pyramid. A tower, either 
round or square, or of any other form, and of the same dimensions, 
would have been far more impasing, and if of sufficient height — the 
mass being the same — might almost have attained sublimity; but a 
pyramid never looks so large as it is, and not till you almost touch it 
can you realize its vast dimensions. This is owing principally to all its 
parts sloping away from the eye instead of boldly challenging observa- 
tion ; but, on tlie other hand, no form is so stable, none so capable of 
resisting the injuries of time or force, and none, consequently, so well 
calculated to attain the object for which the pyramids were erected. 
As examples of technic art, they are imrivalled among the works of men, 
but they rank low if judged by the aBsthetic rules of architectural art. 

The same may be said of the tombs around them : they are low and 
solid, but possess neither beauty of form nor any architectural featun.* 
worthy of attention or admiration, but they have lasted nearly 
uninjured from the remotest antiquity, and thus have attained ihv 
object their builders had principally in view in designing them. 

Their temple architecture, on the other hand, may induce us to 
modify considerably these opinions. The one described above — which 
is the only one I personally have any knowledge of — is perhaps the 
simplest and least adorned temple in the world. All its parts are 
plain — straight and square, without a single moulding of any sort, but 
they are perfectly proportioned to the work they have to do. They are 
pleasingly and effectively arrangeil, and they have all that lithic 
grandeur which is inherent in large masses of precious materials. 

Such a temple as that of the Sphinx cannot comjxjte either in rich- 
ness or magnificence with the great temples of Thebes, with their 
sculptured capitals and storied walls, but there is a beauty of repose and 
an elegance of simplicity about the older example which goes far to 
redeem its other deficiences, and when we have more examples before 
us they may rise still higher in our estimation. 

Whatever opinion we may ultimately form regarding the architectuiv, 
there can be little doubt as to the rank to be assigned to tlieir painting 
and sculpture. In tliese two arts the Eg)*ptians earl}- attained a mastery 
which they never surpassed. Judged by iho rides of classic or of 
modem art, it appears formal and conventional to such an extent as to 

Bk. I. Ch. II. TEMPLES. 95 

render it difficult for us now to appreciate its merits. But as a purely 
Phonetic form of art — as used merely to enunciate those ideas which 
wo now so much more easily express by alphabetic writings, it is clear 
and precise beyond any picture writings the world has since seen. 
Judged by its own rules, it is marvellous to what perfection the 
Egyptians had attained at that early period, and if we look on their 
minor edifices as mere vehicles for the display of this pictorial expression, 
we must modify to some extent the judgment we would pass on them 
as mere objects of architectural art. 




xuth dynasty of manetho. 

SeBonchosU rvigned 46 years ,' Lampara (Labyrinth) . . . reigned 8 yean 

Ammeneme!} .... ., 38 ,, Hk snooeseori , 42 ,, 

Sesostris (Osortasen) .... . , 48 , , I 

The great culminating period of the old kingdom of E^ypt is that 
belonging to the 4th and 5th dynasties. Nine-tenths of the monuments 
of the pyramid builders which have come down to our time belong to 
the five centuries during which these two dynasties ruled over Egypt 
(B.C. 3500-3000). 

The 6th dynasty was of a southern and more purely African origin. 
On the tablets of Apap ^ (Apophis), its most famous monarch, we find 
the worship of Khem and other deities of the Theban period wholly 
unknown to the Pyramid kings. The next four dynasties are of 
faineant kings, of whom we know little, not " Carent quia vate sacro," 
but because they were not builders, and their memory is lost. The 
11th and 12 th usher in a new state of affairs. The old Memphite 
pyramid building kingdom had passed with its peaceful contentment, 
and had given place to a warlike idolatrous race of Theban kings, far 
more purely African, the prototypes of the great monarchy of the 18th 
and 19th dynasties, and having no affinity with anything we know of 
as existing in Asia in those times. 

Their empire lasted apparently for more than 300 years in Upper 
Egypt ; but for the latter portion of that period they do not seem to 
have reigned over the whole country, having been superseded in Lower 
Egypt by the invasion of the hated Hyksos, or Shepherd kings, about 
the year 2300 b.c, and by whom they were finally totally overthrown. 

When we turn from the contemplation of the Pyramids, and the 
monuments contemporary with them, to examine those of the 12th 
dynasty, we become at once aware of the change which has taken place. 
Instead of the Pyramids, all of which are situated on the western side 
of the Nile, we have obelisks, which, without a single exception, are 
found on its eastern side towards the rising sun, apparently in contra- 
distinction to the valley of the dead, which was towards the side on 
which he set The earliest and one of the finest of these obelisks is 

1 Lepdus, Denkmaler, Abt ii. pU. 115, 116. 

bk. I. Ch. ni. thp: labyrinth. 97 

that still standing at Heliopolis, inscribed with the name of Osortasen, 
one of the first and greatest kings of this dynasty. It is 67 ft. 4 in. in 
height, without the pyramidion which crowns it, and is a splendid 
block of granite, weighing 217 tons. It must have required immense 
skill to quarry it, to transport it from Syene, and finally, after finishing 
it, to erect it where it now stands and has stood for 4500 years. 

We find the sculptures of the same king at Wady Halfah, near the 
second cataract, in Nubia ; and at Sarabout el Kadem, in the Sinaitic 
Peninsula. He also commenced the great temple of Kamac at Thebes, 
which in the hands of his successors became the most splendid in ^ypt, 
and perhaps it is not too much to say the greatest architectural monu- 
ment in the whole world. 

As might be expected from our knowledge of the feict that the 
Hyksos invasion took place so soon after his reign, none of his structural 
buildings now remain entire in which we might read the story of his 
conquests, and learn to which gods of the Pantheon he especially 
devoted himself. We must therefore fell back on Manetho for an 
account of his " conquering all Asia in the space of nine years, and 
Europe as far as Thrace," * for though there is nothing to contradict 
this statement there is much that renders it extremely probable. 

The Labyrinth. 

It is to this dynasty also that we owe the erection of the Labyrinth, 
one of the most remarkable, as well as one of the most mysterious, 
monuments of Eg^-pt. All Manetho tells us of this is, that Lampares, 
or Moeris, "built it as a sepulchre for himself;" and the information 
we derive from the Greeks on this subject is so contradictory and so 
full of the wonderful, that it is extremely difficult to make out either 
the plan or the purpose of the building. As long ago as 1843, the 
whole site was excavated and thoroughly explored by the officers of the 
PVussian expedition under Lepsius ; but, like most of the information 
obtained by that ill-conditioned party, the results have not yet been given 
to the world, except in the most unsatisfactory and fragmentary form. 

From such data as have been given to the public we learn that 
the Labyrinth was a building measuring about 1150 feet east and west 
by 850 feet north and south, surrounding three sides of a courtyard, 
about 500 feet in one direction by 600 in the other (woodcut No. 12). 
The fourth side was occupied — unsymmetrically however — by a 
pyramid measuring about 200 feet square, or somewhat less than the 
dimensions ascribed to it by the Greeks.^ 

This pyramid was no doubt the tomb of the founder, and the name 
of Amenemhe, one of the kings of this dynasty, has been found on its 
walls, showing that the fashion of erecting sepulchral pyramids had 

» Syno^llns. p. 60 ; Euaeb. Chron. p. 98. " Herod, ii. 148. 

VOL. 1. " 


not then quite gone out, (hough its accompauimetits were of a nstore 
prcTioiisly unknown. 

•k Plu Df Ibt Lcbyrlni 

r^qblib' ■ PenkmaleT,' 

In the Lahyrinth iteelf a number of small chambers were found, 
two storeys in height, aa the account of Herodotus lead us to expect, 
but BO small, I>eing only four feet in width at most, that we cannot 
understand tho admiration they ez- 
cit«d in his mind. As there are no 
hieroglyphics upon them, it is diffi- 
cult to determine whether they be- 
long to the old Labyrinth, or to 
that which Herodotus wiites of as 
erected by Psammeticus and the 
kings of his day. As. however, the 
materials for acquiring a &r more 
perfect knowledge of this buliding 
exist at Berlin, it is needless specidating on such imperfect data as we 
now pnnfirnn. and must therefore hope that more liberal counsels may 
■oon prevail, and that the mysteiy that still shrouds this singular monu- 
>wnt may before long be removed. 

Chuabcn in L«hyr1iitlL i 

Tho moet intereeting eeries of monuments of thisdynasty which have 
come down to our time aro tho tombs of Beni Hassan in Middle Egypt. 
Strange to say, they are situated on the eastern side of the Kilo, and 
are almost the only hypogea that are so placed in Egypt.' The cha- 
racter of the sculptures which adorn their walls approaches that found 
in tho tombs surrounding 
the pyramids, but the archi- 
tecture differs widely. They 
are all cheerful-looking halls 
open to the l^ht of day, 
many of them with pillared 
porches, and all possessing 
pretensions to architectural 
ornament cither internal or 

One of the most interest- 
ing of these poseesees a por- 
tico of two pillars, in architecture bo like tho order afterwards employed 
by the Qreeks as to be named with propriety the proto-Doric order. 
The same class of pillar is also used internally, sup- 
porting a plain architrave, from which spring two 
curvilinear roofs, which we cannot help suspecting 
were so formed in imitation of arches. All the 
features of this order indeed seem to be borrowed 
from brick architecture : the pillar is just what we 
should expect in one buUt up of small materials. 
The abacus is tho tile or wooden capping which is 
indispensable in that case to distribute the super- 
incumbent weight over the whole substance of the 
pier, and if bricks were so employed nothing in more 
probable than that the arch should also have been 
introduced. Tho form of the cornice alt>o indicates a 
far more ephemeral and lighter stylo of architecture 
than could have been derived from stone buUdings. 

There is another form of pillar used at Beni ii.Piii«tMB 
Hassan at that early ^e which is still further re- 
moved from stone than even tho proto-Doric. It imitates a 

' Were they originally tomba? Were 
tliey not, *lien firat eicavnled, intended ne 
dwelling-plBiSs for the living, to ba after- 
wards appropriated as sepulchreii for the 
dead? That such should be tho caw 
may appear strange to death-tearing noes 
lika thnm that now jnhaHt Eompe ; but 

1 bundle 

I omong tlie Moguls oC India the fashion 
I always whs for a king to buUd liis own 
J sepulchre, and use it as a plcBBare palace 
during his life. It nas only after his 
dcatli tlutt it beramo tho tomb and monu- 
rotrnbof ils founder. 

H 2 



Part I. 

of four reeds or lotuB-Btalke bound bother near the top and 
bulging above the ligature bo as to form a capital. Such a pier 
mnxt evidently have been originally employed in wooden architecture 
only, and the roof which it supports is in this instance of light 
wooden construction having the slight bIc^ requisite in the dry climate 
of Egypt In after age* this form of pillar became 
a great fevourite with the Egyptian architects, and 
was 'employed in all their great monumento, but 
with a far more subetantial lithio form than we 
find here, and in conjunction with the hollow — 
or, as we should call it, Corinthian — formed capital, 
of which no example is found earlier than the 1 8th 

Where the square pier, so characteristic of the 
pyramid - building 
age, is used at Beni 
Hassan, it is adorned 
on its fece with a 
lotus - flower and 
stems (woodcut. No. 
17), BO as to aasimi- 
lato it with the more 
advanced free stand- 
ing pillars of the 
same order, and is 
interesting as show- " 
ing how the bu^cb- 
tioD arose. It is by no means improbable that at an earlier epoch the 
square priems of the pyramid age were so adorned in painting. In 
the new kingdom of the 12th dynasty they were probably first so 
treated in relief. This done, the suggestion was obvious, where wood 
could be used, to cut away the masses, leaving only the stems. This 
again came to be reproduced in stone, which after a while lost all trace 
of its wooden original. 

'ITiese are meagre records, it must be confessed, of bo great a 
kingdom, but when we come to consider the remoteness of the period, 
and that the dj-naety was overthrown by the Shepherds whose rule 
was of considerable duration, it is perhaps in vain to expect that much 
can remain to be disinterred which would enable us to realise more fully 
the architectural art of this age. 

Till very recently our knowledge of the Shepherd kings was almost 
entirely derived from what was said of them by Hanetho, in tlie extracts 

Bk. I. Ch. III. SHEPHERDS. 101 

from his writings so fortunately preserved by Josephus, in his answer 
to Apion. Recent explorations have however raised a hope that even 
their monuments may be so fer recovered as to enable us to realise to 
some extent at least who they were and what their aspirations. 

Manetho tells us they came from the East, but fearing the then 
rising power of the Assyrians they fortified Avaris as a bulwark against 
them, and used it during their sojourn in Egypt to keep up their com- 
munications with their original seat. Eecent explorations have enabled 
M. Mariette to identify San, Zoan, or Tanis, a well-known site on the 
Bubastite branch of the Nile, with this Avaris. And already he has 
disinterred a sphinx and two seated statues which certainly belong to 
the reign of the Shepherd king Apoplns.* 

The character of these differs widely from anything hitherto found 
in Egypt. They present a physiognomy strongly marked with an 
Asiatic type — an arched nose, rude bushy hair, and great muscular 
development; altogether something wholly different from everything 
else found in Egypt either before or afterwards. 

This is not much, but it is an earnest that more remains to be dis- 
covered, and adds another to the proofs that are daily accumulating, 
how implicitly Manetho may be relied upon when we only read him 
correctly, and how satisfactory it is to find that every discovery that is 
made confirms the conclusions we had hesitatingly been adopting. 

It appears from such fragmentary evidence as has hitherto been 
gleaned from the monuments, that the Shepherds* invasion was neither 
sudden nor at once completely successful, if indeed it ever was so, for it 
is certain that Theban and Xoite dynasties coexisted with the Shep- 
herds during the whole period of their stay, either from policy, like the 
protected princes under our sway in India or because their conquest 
was not so complete as to enable them to suppress the national dynasties 

Like the Tartars in China they seem to have governed the country 
by the original inhabitants and for their own purposes; tolerating 
their religion and institutions, but ruling by the superior energy of 
their race the peace-loving semi-Semitic inhabitants of the Delta, till 
they were in their turn overthrown and expelled by the more warlike 
African races of the southern division of the Egyptian valley. 

* * Revue Archaeologique,' vol. liL, 1861, p. 97, aud v., 18G2, p. 297. 





XVIilTH DncACTT. 1;<2J Oras reigned 36 yeara. 

Ameoophb I reigned 25 years. Ktuunses I. , 12 ,, 

TbothnxMbl 13 .. Manephtlu I ,, 32 ., 

AnmMphid 11 20 ,, Rhamaes II ,. 68 ,, 

Amenae (Queen) 21 ,. Manephtha IL 6 ,, 

Thothmoaisll 12 ,, XIXth Dtvacty. 

ThoUunoeia III 26 ,. Sethoa Rharoaes . ... ,, 65 ,. 

TlwUmwaia VL .... ,, 10 ,, Khamesaidie ,, 66 ,, 

Amenophialll ,, 21 ,, Amenophia , ao ,, 

Interregnom of Sun- worehipping Kings. Filxode 1312 

The five centuries* which elapeed between the expnleion of the 
Shepherds and £xode of the Jews, comprise the culminating period of 
the greatness and greatest artistic development of the Egyptians. It 
is practically within this period that all the great buildings of the 
" Hundred pyloned city of Thebes " were erected. Memphis was adorned 
within its limits with buildings as magnificent as those of the southern 
capital, though subsequently less fortunate in escaping the hand of the 
spoiler ; and in every city of the Delta wherever an obelisk or sculptured 
stone is found, there we find almost invariably the name of one of 
the Idngs of the 18th or 19th dynasties. In Arabia, too, and above 
the (Cataracts to the fer-off Meroe, everywhere their works and names 
are found. At Arban,^ on the Khabour, we find the name of the third 
Thothmes; and there seems little doubt but that the Naharaina or 
Mesopotamia was one of the provinces conquered by them, and that all 
Western Asia was more or less subject to their sway. 

Whoever the conquering Thebans may have been, their buildings 
az6 sufficient to prove, as above mentioned, that they belonged to a race 
diffisring in many essential respects from that of the Memphite kingdom 
tliej had superseded. 

The pyramid had disappeared as a form of royal sepulchre, to be 
leplaoed by a long gloomy corridor cut in the rock ; its walls covered 
mth wild and fetish pictures of death and judgment : a sort of magic 
llttll, crowded with mysterious symbols — the most monstrous and 

iplioated that any system of human superstition has yet invented. 

S jfrnu^ JcMphus f»utm Apiun. > Layanl, * Nineveh and Babylon/ 281. 


Instead of the precise orientation and careful masonry of the old 
kingdom, the buildings of the new race are placed anywhere, facing in 
any direction, and generally affected with a symmetriphobia that it is 
difficult to understand. The pylons are seldom in the axis of the 
temples ; the courts seldom square ; the angles frequently not right 
angles, and one court succeeding another without the least reference to 

The masonry, too, is frequently of the rudest and clumsiest sort, 
and would long ago have perished but for its massivenoss, and there is 
in aU their works an appearance of haste and want of care that some- 
times goes fer to mar the value of their grandest conceptions. 

In their manners, too, there seems an almost equal degree of 
discrepancy. War was the occupation of the kings, and foreign con- 
quest seems to have been the passion of the people. The pylons and 
the walls of the temples are covered with battle-scenes, or with the 
enumeration of the conquests made, or the tribute brought by the 
subjected races. While not engaged in this, the monarch's time seems 
to have been devoted to practising the rites of the most complicated and 
least rational form of idolatry that has yet been known to exist among 
any body of men in the slightest degree civilized. 

K the monuments of Memphis had come down to our times as 
perfect as those of Thebes, some of these differences might bo found 
less striking. On the other hand, others might be still more apparent ; 
but judging from such data as we possess — and they are tolerably 
extensive and complete — we are justified in assuming a most marked 
distinction ; and it is indispensably necessary to bear it in mind in 
attempting to understand the architecture of the valley of the Nile, 
and equally important in any attempt to trace the affinities of the 
Egyptian with any other races of mankind. So far as we can now 
see, it may be possible to trace some affinities with the pyramid builders 
in Assyria or in Western Asia ; but if any can be dimly predicated of 
the southern Egyptian race, it is in India and the further east ; and 
the line of communication was not the Isthmus of Suez, but the Straits 
of Babelmandeb or the Indian Ocean. 


Although, as already mentioned, numerous buildings of the great 
Fharaonic dynasties are to be found scattered all along the banks of 
the Nile, it is at Thebes only that the temples are so complete as to 
enable us to study them with advantage, or to arrive at a just apprecia- 
tion of their greatness. That city was practically the capital of Egypt 
during the whole of the 18th and 19th dynasties, and has been fortunate 
in having had no great city built near it since it fell into decay; 
unlike Memphis in this respect, which has been used as a quarry 
during the last 14 or 15 centuries. It has also had the advantage of a 



Pakt T. 

barrier of rocky hills on its western limits, which has prevented the 
sand of the desert from burying its remains, as has been the case at 
Abydos and elsewhere. 

The ruins that still remain ai-c found scattered over an area 

extending about 2i miles 
north and south, and 3-^ 
miles east and west. The 
principal group is at Kar- 
uac on the eastern bank of 
the Nile, consisting of one 
great temple 1 200 feet long, 
and five or six smaller tem- 
ples grouped unsymmetri- 
cally around it. About two 
miles further south is the 
temple at Luxor 820 feet 
long, and without any de- 

On the other side of the 
river is the great temple of 
Medinet-Habou, built by 
the first king of the 19th 
dynasty, 620 feet in length ; 
the Ehamession, 570 feet 
long; and the temple at 
Goumou, of which only the 
sanctuary and the founda- 
tions of the Propyla now 
exist Of the great temple of 
Thothmcs and Amenophis 
very little remains above- 
ground — it having been 
situated within the limits 
of the inundation — except 
the two celebrated Colossi, 
one of which was known 
to the Greeks as the vocal 
Memnon. When complete 
it probably was, next softer 
Kamac, the most extensive 
of Theban temples. There 
are several others, situated 
at the foot of the Libyan hills, which would be considered as magni- 
ficent elsewhere, but sink into insignificance when compared with those 
jQKt enumerated. 


Rbameasion at Thebes. Scale 100 ft. to I in. 

Bk. l.Cii. IV. 



Moet of these, like our medieval cathedrale, are the work of euooee- 
sive kings, who added to the works of their ancestors withoat much 
reference to coi^niity of plan ; but one, the Rhameesion, was built 
wholly hj the great Khamses in the 15th century b.c, and though the 
inner sanctuary is so ruined that it can hardly be restored, still the 
general arrangement, as shewn in the annexed woodcut, is so oasily 
made out that it may be considered as the typical example of what an 
Egyptian temple of this &ge was in- 
tended to have been. Its fai^e is 
formed by two great pylons, or pyra- 
midal masses of maeoniy, which, like 
the two western towers of a Gothic 
cathedral, are the appropriate and 
most imposing part of the structure 
externally. Between these is the 
entrance doorway, leading, as is al- 
most invariably the case, into a great 
square courtyard, with porticoes al- 
ways on two, and sometimes on three 
sides. This leads to an inner oourt, 
smaller, but Su more splendid than 
the first. On the two sides of this 
court, through which the central pas- 
sage leads, are square piers with 
colossi in &ont, and on the right 
and left are double ranges of circular 
columns, which are continued also 
behind the square piers fronting the 
entrance. Passing through this, we 
come to a hypostyle hall of great 
beau^, formed by two ranges of larger 
oolamns in the centre, and three rows 
of smaller ones on each aide. These 
hypoatyle halls almost always accom- 
pany the lai^r i^yptian temples of 
the great age. They derive their 
name &om having, over the lateral 
columns, what in Gothic architecture . 
would be called a dere^ory, through 

which the light is admitted to the central portion of the hall. Althou^ 
some are more extensive than this, the arrangement of all is nearly 
similar. They all possess two ranges of columns in the centre, so tall 
as to equal the height of the side cohunns together with that of tlie 
attic which is placed on tbem. They are generally of different orders ; 
the central pillars having a bell-shaped capital, the under side of which 


\^4Mk jMjrfectlv illuminated from the mode in which the light was intro- 
dutxnl : while in the side pillars the capital was narrower at the top 
than at the bottom, apparently for the sake of allowing its ornaments 
to be seen. 

Beyond this are always several smaller apartments, in this instance 
Hupposed to be nine in number, but they are so ruined that it is difficult 
to be quite certain what their arrangement was. These seem to have 
been rather suited to the residences of the king or priests than to the 
purposes of a temple, as we understand the word. Indeed, palace- 
temple, or temple-palace, would be a more appropriate term for these 
buildings than to call them simply temples They do not seem to have 
been appropriated to the worship of any particular god, but rather for 
the great ceremonials of royalty — of kingly sacrifice to the gods for the 
people, and of worship of the king himself by the people, who seems to 
have been r^arded, if not as a god, at least as the representative of 
the gods on earth. 

Though the Khamession is so grand from its dimensions, and so 
beautiful from its design, it is far surpassed in every respect by the 
palace-temple at Eamac, which is perhaps the noblest effort of archi- 
tectural magnificence ever produced by the hand of man. 

Its principal dimensions are 1200 ft. in length, by about 360 in 
width, and it covers therefore about 430,000 square ft, or nearly twice 
the area of St. Peter's at Komc, and more than four times that of 
any mediaeval cathedral existing. This, however, is not a fitir way of 
estimating its dimensions, for our churches are buildings entirely under 
one roof; but at Kamac a considerable portion of the area was uncovered 
by any buildings, so that no such comparison is just. The great hypostyle 
hall, however, is internally 340 ft by 170, and, with its two pylons, it 
covers more than 88,000 square ft, a greater area than the cathedral 
of Cologne, the largest of all our northern cathedrals; and when we 
consider that this is only a part of a great whole, we may fiurly assert 
that the entire structure is among the largest, as it undoubtedly is one 
of the most beautiful buildings in the world. 

The original part of this great group was, as before mentioned, the 
sanctuary or temple built by Osortasen, the great monarch of the 12th 
dynasty, before the Shepherd invasion. It is the only thing that seems 
to have been allowed to stand during the five centuries of Shepherd 
domination, though it is by no means clear that it had not been pulled 
down by the Shepherds, and reinstated by the first kings of the 1 8th 
dynasty, an operation easily performed with the beautiful polished 
granite masonry of the sanctuaiy. Be this as it may, Amenophis, the 
first king of the restored race, enclosed this in a temple about 120 ft 
mpmie. Thothmes I. built in front of it a splendid hall, surrounded 
1^ ooIoaBi, backed by piers; and Thothmes IlL erected behind it a 
* ce or temple, which is one of the most singular buildings in Egypt 

Bk. I. Ch. IV. 



The Iiall is 140 ft long by 55 in width internally, the roof is gnpported 
by two rowB of maaBive square oolunms, and two of circular pilJarB of 
most exceptional form, the capitals of which are reveraed, and some- 
what resembling the form usually found in Aasyria, but nowhere else 
in Egypt. Like almost all Egyptian halls, it wa« lighted from the roof 
in the manner shown in the section. With all these additions, the 
temple was a complete whole, 640 ft in length by 280 in width, at 
the time when the sun-worshippers broke in upon the r^ular succes 
sion of tho great 18th dynasty. 

Sfctloa of PaluB of TbMhmH 111. 'Ilietia. 

When the original line was resumed, Manepthah commenced the 
buildii^ of the great hall, which he nearly completed. Khamsee, the 
first king of the 19th dynasty, built the small temple in front ; and the 
so-called Bubastitc kings of the 22nd dynasty added the great court in 
front, completing the building to the extent we now find it. We have 
thus, as in some of our mediajval cathedrals, in this one temple, a com- 
plete history of tho style during tho whole of its must flourishing 
period ; and, either for interest or for beauty, it forms such a series as 
no other country, and no other age, can produce. Besides those 
buildings mentioned above, there are other temples to the north, to tho 
cast, and more especially to the south, and pylons connecting these, 
and avenues of sphinxes extending for miles, and enclosing-wBlls, and 
tanks, and embankmonts, making up such a group as no ci^ ever 
possessed before or since. St Peter's, with its colonnades, and the 
Vatican, make up an immense mass, but as insignificant in extent as 
in style when compared with this glory of ancient Thebes and its 
surrounding temples. 

The culminating point and climax of all this group of building is 
the hypostyle halt of Manepthah. The accompanying plan, and section 
of its central portion, both to the usual scale, will explain its general 
arrangement; but no language can convey an idea of its beauty, and 
no artist has yet been able to reproduce its form so as to convey to 
those who have not seen it an idea of its grandeur. The mass of its 
central piers, illumined by a flood of light from the clcrestoiy, and the 



smaller pillars of the wings gradoally fading into obscurity, are so 
arranged and lighted aa to convey an idea of infinite space at the 
same time, the beauty and massivenees of the forms and the bnlliancy 
of their coloured decorations all combine to stamp this as the greatest 


xntnl portloa oTUnnsVIe lUl 

of man's architectural works ; but such a one as it would be impossible 
to reproduce, except in such a climate and in that individual s^le in 
niiidi, and for which, it was created. 
' On the same side of the Kile, and probably at one time oonnectcd 



Bk I. Ch. IV. TEMPLES. 109 

with it by an avenue of sphinxes, stands the temple of Luxor, hardly 
inferior in some respects to its great rival at Kamac ; but either it was 
never finished, or, owing to its proiimity to the Nile, it has been 
mined, and the materials carried away. The length is about 830 ft., 
its breadth ranging from 100 to 200 ft. 
Its general arrangement comprised, 
first, a great court at a difiercnt angle 
from the rest, being turned so as to 
face Kamac. In front of this stand 
two colossi of Bhamsee the Great, its 
founder, and two obelisks were once 
also there, one of which is now in 
Paris. Behind this was once a great 
hypostjle haU, but only the two cen- 
tral ranges of columns are now stand- 
ing, ytill further hack were smaller 
halls and numerous apartments, evi- 
dently meant for the king's residence, 
rather than for a temple or place exclu- 
sively devoted to worship. 

The palace at Luxor is farther re- I 
markable as a striking instance of how j 
r^ardlees the Egyptians were of regu- j 
larityandsymmotryintheirplans. Not ^ 
only is there a considerable angle in 
the direction of the axis of the building, 
but the angles of the courtyards are 
in scarcely any instance right angles ; 
the pillars are variously spaced, and 
pains seem to have been gratuitously 
taken to make it as irregular as pos- 
sible in nearly every respect. All j 
the portion at the southern end was i 
erected by Amenophis III., the north- ! 
em part completed by Khamses the ' 
Great, the same who built the Khames- j 
sion already described as situated c 
the other bank of the Nile. 

Besides these there stood on the m Mcdinei-H.bou 

western side of the Nile the Memno- 

nium, or great temple of Amenophis III., now almost entirely ruined. 
It was placed on the alluvial plain, within the limits of the imm- 
dation, which has tended on the one hand to bury it and on tlio other 
to fiicilitate the removal of its materials. Nearly the only remains 
of it now apparent are the two great seated colossi of its founder, one of 





i ■ , 



1 1 

h '' 


; '' 


1 ,_i 

a .» 




which when broken became in Greek, or rather Roman times, the 
vocal Memnon nhose plaintive wail to the rising Bim, over its own and 
its country a de^jlation forms so prominent an incident in the Roman 
accounts of Thebes. 

^ot far from this fctanda the great temple known as that of Medinet- 
HaboH built b\ the fiist kmg of the 19th dynasty. Its dimensions 
are only sbghtlj inferior to thofie of the Rhamession, being 620 ft 
from front to rear and its propjion 107 ft. wide. Its two great 
courts are however inferior in size to those of that building. !%« 
inner tne is adorned by a series of Caryatide 
fagurea (woodcut No. 23), which are inferior 
both in coDCoption and execution to those of 
the previous reigns, and indeed throughout 
the whole building there is an absence of 
style and an esaggeration of detail, which 
ehowB only too clearly that the great ^e was 
passing away when it was erected. The roof 
of its hypostyle hall, and of the chambers 
bejond it, is occupied by an Arab village, 
which would require to be cleared away before 
it Loiild bo excavated ; much as this might be 
^^ ^ _ desired the details of its couiis would not 

§3_ _g* lead us to expect anything either very beau- 

■JH hIBI ^''^^ "'^ ^"^ from its disinterment. Further 
IB I taa down tho river, as already mentioned, stood 

another temple, that of Goumou, built by the 
same Manepthah who erected the great hall 
of Karnac It is, however, only a fragment 
or what may be called the residence part of a 
temple. Tho hj'postyle hall never was erected, 
and only the foundations of two successive 
pylons can be traced in front of it. In its 
present condition, therefore, it is one of the 
least interesting of tho temples of Thebes, 
though elsewhere it would no doubt bo re- 
garded with wonder. 

Another building of this age, attached to 
the Eouthern side of the great temple at Karnac, 
deserves especial attention as being 
a perfectly regular building, erected 
at one time, and according to the 
original design, and strictly a 
temple, without anything about 
it that could justif}' the euppoei- 
tion of its being a palace. 

Bk. I. fn. IV. 


It waa erected by the first king of the 19th dynasty, and consists 
of two pylons, approached through an avenue of sphinxes. Within 
this is an hypeethral court, and beyond that a small hypostyle hall, 
lighted from above, as shown in the section (woodcut No. 25). Within 
this is the cell, smrounded by a passage, and with a smaller hall beyond, 
all apparently dark, or very imperfectly lighted. The gateway in &ont 
of the avenne was erected by the Ptolemies, and, like many Egyptian 
buildings, is placed at a different angle to the direction of the buQd- 
ing itself. Besides its intrinsic beauty, this temple is interesting 
as being far more like the temples erected after- 
wards under the Greek and Koman domination 
than anything else belonging to that early age. 

At Tanis, or Scan, near the mouth of the Nile, 
the remains of a temple and of 13 obelisks can 
still be traced. At Soleb, on the borders of Nubia, 
a temple now stands of the third Amenophis, 
scarcely inferior in beauty or magnificence to 
those of the capital. 

At Sedinga, not far below the third cataiact, 
are the remains of temples erected by Amenophis 
III. of the 18th dynasty, which is interesting as 
introducing in a completed form a class of pillar that 
afterwards became a great favourite with Egyptian 
architects (woodcut No. 26). Before this time we 
find these Isis heads, either painted or carved on 
the iace of square piers, but so as not to interfere 
with the lines of the pillars. Gradually they be- 
came more important so as to form a double capital 
as in this instance. In the Roman times, as at Den- 
dera (woodcut Na 38, p. 123), all the four feces 
of the pier were so adorned, though it must be 
admitted in very questionable taste. 

It would be tedious to attempt to enumerate 
without illustrating all the fragments that remain 
of temples of this age. Some are so nuned, that 
it is difficult to make out their plan. Others, like 
those of Memphis or Tanais, so entirely destroyed, 
that only their site, or at most, only t^ir leading 
dimensions can be made out. Their loss is of course to be regretted ; 
but those enumerated above are autScient to enable us to judge both 
of the style and the magnificence of the great building epoch. 

At Abydos the remains of two great temples have been partially 
disinterred from the sand which has overwhelmed them. In respect of 
Architectural magnifioence they are inferior to those of the capital, and 
have not yet been uncovered to such an extent as to onable their plans 




to be quite made out ; but they have a special interest to the Egypto- 
loger, as it was on the walls of one of these that the so-called tablet of 
Abydos was discovered — now in the British Museum — which first gave 
a connected list of kings, the predecessors of Ehamses, and sufficiently 
extensive to confirm the lists of Manetho in a manner satisfactory to the 
ordinary enquirer. A second list, far more complete, has recently been 
brought to light in the same locality, and contains the names of 76 
kings, ancestors of Manepthah, the fiither of Rhamses. It b^ins, as all 
lists do, with Menes ; but even this list is only a selection, omitting 
many names found in Manetho, but inserting others which are not in 
his lists. Before the discovery of this perfect list, the longest known 
wore that of the chamber of the ancestors of Thothmes III., at Eamac, 
containing when perfect 61 names, of which however nearly one-third 
are obliterated ; and that recently found at Baccara containing 58 names 
originally, but of which several are now illegible. 

It is the existence of these lists which gives such interest and such 
realiiy to the study of Architecture in Egypt. Fortunately there is 
hardly a building in that country which is not adorned with the name 
of the king in whose reign it was erected. In royal buildings they are 
found on every wall and every pillar. The older cai-touches are simple 
and easily remembered ; and when we find the buildings thus dated by 
the builders themselves, and their succession recorded by subsequent 
kings on the walls of their temples, we feel perfectly certain of our 
sequence, and nearly so of the actual dates of the buildings ; they are 
moreover such a series as no other country in the world can match 
either for historic interest or Architectural magnificence. 

RocK-cuT Tombs and Temples. 

Both in Egypt Proper and in Nubia the Egyptians were in the 
habit of excavating monuments from the living rock, but with this 
curious distinction, that, with scarcely an exception, all the excavations 
in Egypt Proper are tombs, and no important example of a rock-cut 
temple has yet been discovered. In Nubia, on the other hand, all the 
cavations are temples, and no tombs of importance are to be found 
anywhere. This distinction may hereafter lead to important historical 
deductions, inasmuch as on the western side of India there are an 
infinite nimiber of rock-cut temples, but no tombs of any sort Every 
oiicumstance seems to point to the fact that, if there was any connection 
between Africa and India, it was with the provinces in the upper paii; 
of the Valley of the Nile, and not with Egypt Proper. This, however, 
18 a subject that can hardly be entered on here, though it may be useful 
to bear in mind the anal(^y alluded to. 

Like all rock-cut examples all over the world, these Nubian temples 
oopifls of Btractural buildings, only more or less modified to suit 
ozigeiioies of their situation, which did not admit of any very great 

Bk. I. Ch. IV. 



development insido, as light and air oould only be introduced fivm the 
one opening of the doorway. 

The two principal esamplea of this claae of monument are the two 
at Ipeamboul, the lai^eat of which is the finest of its class known to 
exist anywhere. Itn total depth froia the faoe of the rook is ISO ft, 
divided into 2 large halla and 3 oella, with paasages oonnentiiig them. 

Externally the facade is about 100 ft. in height, and adorned by 4 
of tho most m^nifix»nt coloasi in Egypt, each TO ft. in height, and re- 
presenting the King Khamsee IL, who caused the excavation to be made. 
It may be because they are more perfect than any others now found in 
that country, but certainly nothing can exceed their calm majeety and 
beauty, or be more entirely &ee from tho vulgarity and exaggeration 
which is generally a characteristio of colossal works of this sort. 

or Rock-CQt Temple st Ipumboul. 6ul« Ac 

The smaller temple at the same place has six standing figures of 
deities oountersnnk in the rock, and is carved with exceeding richness. 
It is of the same age with tho large temple, but will not admit of 
comparison witli it owing to the inferiority of the design. 

Besides these, there is a very beautiful though small example at 
Eolabsche, likewise belonging to the age of Bhamses II., and remark- 
able for the beauty of its sculptural bos-reliofa, as well as for the bold 
proto-Dorio columns which adorn its vestibule. ' There are also smaller 
ones at Derri and Salagno, at the upper end of tho valley. At Essabna, 
Girsheh, and Dandonr, the cells of tho temple have been excavated ftpm 
the rock, but their courts and propylous are structural buildings added 
in &oat — a combination never found in JEfeypt, and verj- rare anywhere 

VOL. I. I 


Past I. 

else, although meetmg the diffioulties of the case better than any other 
arrangement, inasauch as the sanctuary has thus all the imperishability 
and mystery of a cave, and the temple at the same time has the space 
and external appearance of a building standing in the open air. 

This last arrangement in found also as a charactfiristic of the temples 
of Gibel Barkal, in the kingdom of Meroe, showing how far the rock- 
oatting practice prevailed in the upper Valley of the Nile. 

As all these temples are contemporary with the great structures in 
f^ypt, it seems strange that the eternity of a rock-cut example did not 
recommend this form of temple to the attention of the Egyptians them- 
selves. But with the exception of a small grotto, called the Speos 
Artemidoe, near Beni Hassan, and two small caves at Silsilis, near the 
cataract, the Egyptians seem never to have attempted it, trusting appa- 
rently to the solidity of their masonic structures for that eternity of 
duration they aspired to. 


In addition to the temples above described, which are all more or less 
oomplex in plan, and all made up of Tarious independent parts, there 
ezifita in Egypt a class of temples called mammeiti, dedicated to the 
mysterious accouchement of the mother of the gods. Small temples of 
this form are common to all ages, and belong 
as well to the 18th dynasty as to the time of 
the Ptolemies. One of them built by Ame- 
nophis 111. at Elephantine, is represented in 
plan and elevation in the annexed cut It 
is of a simple peristylar form, with colnmns 
in front and rear, resembling that shown in 
woodcut No. 7, and seven square piers on each 
flank. These temples are all small, and, 
like the Typhonia, which somewhat resemble 
them, were used as detached chapels or 
cells, dependent on the laiger temples. \Vhat 
renders them more than usually interesting 
to us is the lact that they were nndoubtodly 
the originals of the Greek peristylar forma, 
that people having borrowed nearly every 
peculiarity of their arts from the banks of 
the Nile. We possess tangible evidence (rf 
peristylar temples and proto-Doric pUlars, erected in Egypt centuries 
before the oldest known specimen in Greece. We need therefore 
hardly hesitate to award the palm of invention of these things to the 
I^yptiauB, as we should probably be forced to do of most of the arts 
^od Mdenoee <^ the Greeks if we had only knowledge gufficient to oon- 

Bk. L Ch. IV. 


Of the firat 10 dy- 
nastica of Egyptum kings 
little now rernams but 
their tombe — the ever- 
lasting pyramids — and of 
the people they governed 
only the etructuree and 
rock - cut excavations 
which they prepared for 
their final resting-plaocs. 

Ito Theban kings 
and their subjects erected 
no pyramids, and none of 
their tombs are struc- 
tuial — all are excavated 
&om the living rock ; 
and &om Beiii Hassan to 
the cataract, the plain of 
the Kile is eveiywhero 
fringed with theee sin- 
gular monuments, which, 
if taken in the aggre- 
gate, perhaps required a 
greater amount of labour 
to excavate and to adum 
than did even all the 
edifices of the plain. Cer- 
tain it is that there is far 
more to bo learnt of the 
artfl, of the habits, and of 
the history of Egj'pt from 
these tombe than from 
all the other monnmonts. 
Ko tomb of any Theban 
king has yet been dis- 
covered anterior to the 
18th dynanty ; butalltho 
tombs of that and of the 
subsequent dynasty have 
been found, or are known 
to exist, in the Valley of 
6iban-cl-Melonk, on the 
western side of the plain 
of Thebes. 


It appears to have been the custom with these kings, so soon as they 
ascended the throne, to begin preparing their final resting-plaoe. The 
excavation seems to have gone on uninterruptedly year by year, the 
painting and adornment being finished as it progressed, till the hand of 
death ended the king*s reign, and simultaneously the works of his tomb. 
All was then left unfinished ; the cartoon of the painter and the rough 
work of the mason and plasterer were suddenly broken oflf, as if the hour 
of the king's demise called them too, irrevocably from their labours. 

The tomb thus became an index of the length of a king's reign 
as well as of his magnificence. Of those in the Valley of the Kings, 
the most splendid is that opened by Belzoni, and now known as that 
of Manephthah, the builder of the Hypostyle hall at Eamac. It de- 
scends, in a sloping direction, for about 350 ft. into the mountain, the 
upper half of it being tolerably regular in plan and direction ; but after 
progressing as far as the unfinished hall with two pillars, the direction 
changes, and the works begin again on a lower level, probably because 
they came in contact with some other tomb, or in consequence of 
meeting some flaw in the rock. It now terminates in a large and 
splendid chamber with a coved roof, in which stood, when opened by 
Belzoni, the rifled sarcophagus;^ but a drift- way has been excavated 
beyond this, as if it had been intended to carry the tomb still further 
had the king continued to reign. 

The tomb of Ehamses Maiamoun, the first king of the 19th dynasty, 
is more regular, and in some respects as magnificent as this, and that 
of Amenophis III. is also an excavation of great beauty, and is adorned 
with paintings of the very best ago. Like all the tombs, however, they 
depend for their magnificence more on the paintings that cover the 
walls than on anything which can strictly be called architecture, so 
that they hardly come properly within the scope of the present work ; 
the same may be said of private tombs. Except those of Beni Hassan, 
already illustrated by woodcuts Nos. 14 to 17, they are all either mere 
chambers or corridors, without architectural ornament, but with their 
walls are covered with paintings and hieroglyphics of singular interest 
and beauty. Generally speaking, it is assumed that the entrances of 
these tombs were meant to be concealed and hidden from the know- 
ledge of the people after ihe king's death. It is hardly conceivable, 
however, that so much pains should have been taken, and so much 
money lavished, on what was designed never again to testify to the 
magnificence of its founder. It is also very unlike the sagacity of 
the Egyptians to attempt what was so nearly impossible ; for though 
the entrance of a pyramid might be so built up as to be unrecognisable, 
a cutting in the rock can never be repaired or disguised, and can only 
be temporarily concealed by heaping rubbish over it. Supposing it to 

Now in Sir John Soene's Moaeum, in LincolnVIun-Fieids. 

Bk. L Ch. IV. 




have been intended to conceal the entrances, such an expedient was 
as clumsy and unlikely to have been resorted to by so ingenious a 
people as it has proved futile, for all the royal tombs in the Valley of 
Biban-el-Melouk have been opened and rifled in a past age, and 
their sites and numbers were matters of public notoriety in the times 
of the Greeks and Romans. Many of the private tombs have archi- 
tectural facades, and certainly never were meant to be concealed, so 
that it is not &ir to assume that hiding their tombs' entrances was 
ever a peculiarity of the Thebans, though it certainly was of the earlier 
Memphite kings. 


Another class of monuments, almost exclusively Egyptian, are the 
obelisks, which fonn such striking objects in front of almost all the 
old temples of the country. 

Small models of obelisks are found in the tombs of the age of the 
pyramid-builders, and represented in theii* hieroglyphics ; but the oldest 
public monument of the class known to exist is 
that at Heliopolis, erected by Osortasen, the great 
king of the 12th dynasty. It is, like all the others, 
a single block of beautiful red granite of Syene, cut 
with all the precision of the age, tapering slightly 
towards the summit, and of about the average 
proportion, being about 10 diameters in height; 
exclusive of the top it is 67 ft. 4 in. 

The two finest known to exist are, that now in 
the piazza of the Lateran, originally set up by 
Thothmes III., 105 ft in height, and that still ex- 
isting at Eamac, erected by Thothmes I., 93 ft. 6 in. 
in height. Those of Luxor, erected by Rhamses 
the Great, one of which is now in Paris, are above 
77 ft. in height ; and there are two others in Rome 
each above 80 ft. 

Rome, indeed, has 12 of these monuments within 
her walls — a greater number than exist, erect at 
least, in the country whence they came, though, 
judging from the number that are found adorning 
single temples, it is difficult to calculate how many 
must once have existed in Egypt Their use seems 
to have been wholly that of monxmiental pillars, recording the style and 
title of the king who erected them, his piety, and the proof he gave of 
it in dedicating these monoliths to the deity whom he especially wished 
to honour. 

It has been already remarked that, with scarcely an exception, all 
the pyramids are on the west side of the Nile, all the obelisks on the 



I^teran obelisk. Scale 
50 ft to 1 in., for ooni- 
parison with ncale of 
other buildingR. 


east ; with regard to the former class of monument, this probably arose 
from a law of their existence, the western side of the Nile being in 
all ages preferred for sepulture, but with regard to the latter it seems 
to be accidental Memphis doubtless possessed many monuments of 
this class, and there is reason to believe that the western temples of 
Thebes were also similarly adorned. They are, however, monuments 
easily broken; and, from their form, so singularly useful for many 
building purposes, that it is not to be wondered at if many of them 
have disappeared during the centuries that have elapsed since the 
greater number of them were erected. 

Domestic Architecture. 

Except one small royal pavilion at Modinet Habou, no structure 
now remains in Egypt that can fairly be classed as a specimen of the 
domestic architecture of the ancient Egyptians ; but at the same time 
we possess, in paintings and sculptures, so many illustrations of their 
domestic habits, so many plans, elevations, and views, and even models 
of their dwellings of every class, that we have no difficulty in forming 
a correct judgment not only of the style, but of the details, of their 
domestic architecture. 

Although their houses exhibited nothing of the solidiiy and monu- 
mental character which distinguished their temples and palaces, they 
seem in their own way to have been scarcely less beautifid. They 
were of course on a smaller scale, and built of more perishable ma- 
terials, but they appear to have been as carefully finished, and decorated 
with equal taste to that displayed in the greater works. We know also, 
from the tombs that remain to us, that, although the government of 
Egypt was a despotism of the strictest class, still the wealth of the 
land was pretty equally diffused among all classes, and that luxury 
and splendour were by no means confined either to the royal family 
or within the precincts of the palace. There is thus every reason to 
believe that the cities which have passed away were worthy of the 
temples that adorned them, and that the streets were as splendid and 
as tasteful as the public buildings themselves, and displayed, though 
in a more ephemeral form, the same wealth and power which still 
astonish us in the great monuments that remain. 

No building can form a greater contrast with the temple behind it 
than does the little pavilion erected at Medinet Habou by Khamses, the 
fiLTst king of the 19th dynasty. As will be seen by the annexed plan 
(woodcut No. 31), it is singularly broken and varied in its outline, 
surrounding a small court in the shape of a cross. It is 3 stories in 
height, and, properly speaking, consists of only 3 rooms on each floor, 
connected together by long winding passagea There is reason, however, 
to believe that this is only « fragment of the building, and foundations 

Bk. I. Ca. IV, 



exist which render it probably that the whole was originally a, square 
of the width of the front, and had other chambers, probably only in 
wood or brick, besides those we now find. This would hardly detract 
from the plajtful character of the design, and when coloured, as 
it originally was, and with its battlements or ornaments complete, it 
most have formed a oompoaition as pleasing as it is unlike our usual 

of PiTltloD U HaUon EUhou. 

The other illustration represents in the Egyptians' own quaint style 
a 3-storied dwelling, the upper storey apparently being like those of the 
ABsyrians, an open gallery sup- 
ported by dwarf columns. The 
lower windows aro closed by 
shutters. In the centre is a 
staircase leading to the upper 
storey, and on the loft hand an 
awning supported on wooden 
pillars, which seems to have been 
an indispeneablo part of all the 
better class of dwellings. Gene- 
rally speaking, these houses are 
shown as situated in gardens laid 
out in a quaint formal style, with 

pavilions, and fishponds, and all the other accompaniments of gardens 
in the East at the present day. 

In all the conveniences and elc^nces of building they seem to 
have anticipated all that has been done in those countries down to 
the present day. Indeed, in all probability, the ancient Egyi)tians 
snrpaescd the modem in those respects as much as they did in the more 
important forms of architecture. 

t1 1 



From ui Egyptian 



Decline of art — Trinplee at Dendns — Kidabscbc ~ Pliiln. 

The third stago of Egj-ptian art is as exceptional as the two which 
preceded it, and as unlike anything else which has occurred in any 
other lands. 

From the time of the 19th 
dynasty, with a slight revival 
under the Bnbaslite kings of 
the 22nd dynast^', Egypt sank 
through a longperiod of decay, 
till her mibfortunefl were con- 
snnunated by the invasion of 
the Persians under CambyBes, 
525 B.C. From that time she 
served in a bond^e more 
destructive, if not so galling, 
as that of the Shepherd domi- 
nation, till relieved by the 
more enlightened policy of 
tho rtolemiea. Under them 
she enjoyed as groat material 
prosperity as under her own 
Pharaohs ; and her architec- 
ture and her arta too revived, 
not, it is true, with the great- 
ness or the purity of tho great 
national era, but still with 
much richness and material 

This was continued under 

(the Itoman domination, and, 
judging from what wo find in 
other conntricd, we would na- 
turaUy expect to find ttuees 
of tho influence of Greek and 
B(m>an art in the buildings of this age. So little, however, is this the 
OMe, that before the discovery of tho reading of the hieroglyphic mgns. 

ApolloDc^Ui UaxnL 

Bk. I. Cii. V. 



the learned of Europe plaoed the Ptolemaic and Roman temples f 
Sendora and Kalabsche before thoao f f Ihebce m ordci cf dab. and 
could not detect a Hinglc moulding in the architei^tural dctaile, nor a 
single fiiature in the sculpture and painting which adorned their walls 
which gave them a hint of tho tnith Even Cleopatra the beaiitifiil 
is represented n theee walla with distinctlj Egyptian features and in 

the same tight ganucnta and conventional fonuB as wore used in tho 
portrait of Nophre Ari, Queen of Khames, or in those of tho wives of the 
poBseeeors oftombs in the ago of tho lYramids, 3000 years U'fore. Egypt 
in fact conquered her conquerors, and forced them to adopt her customs 
and her arte, and to follow in the groove she had so long marke<l out for 
herself, and followed with such strange pertinacity. 



Pakt I. 

Some of the temples of this age are, as far as dimensioiis and rich- 
ness of decorations are concerned, quite worthy of the great age, 
though their plans and arrangements differ to a considerable extent. 
There is no longer any hesitation as to whether they should be called 
temples or palaces : for they all are exclusively devoted to worship, — 
and to the worship of a heavenly God, not of a deified king. 

What these arrangements are will be well understood from the 
annexed plan of that of Edfou (woodcut No. 34), which, though not 
the largest, is the most complete of those remaining. It is 450 ft in 
length, and 155 in width, and covering upwards of 80,000 ft.; its 
dimensions may be said to be equal to those of the largest of our medi- 
eeval cathedrals (Cologne or Amiens for instance). Part only of the 
whole structure (that which is shaded in the plan) is roofed, and there- 
fore it can scarcely be compared with buildings entirely under one roof. 


\^P^ , 


Baa-relief at Tell el Amama. 

In front of the temple are two large and splendid pylons, with the 
gateway in the centre, making up a facade 225 ft. in extent. Although 
this example has lost its crowning cornice, its sculptures and ornaments 
are still very perfect, and it may altogether be considered as a fedr 
specimen of its class, though inferior in dimensions to many of those of 
the great Pharaonic age. Within these is a court, 140 ft. by 161, sur- 
rounded by a colonnade on three sides, and rising by easy steps, the whole 
width of the court, to the porch or portico which, in Ptolemaic temples, 
takes the place of the great hypostyle halls of the Pharaohs. It is lighted 
from the front over low screens placed between each of the pillars, a 
peculiarity scarcely ever found in temples of earlier date, though appa- 
rently common in domestic edifices, or those formed of wood, certainly 
as early as the middle of the 18th dynasty, as may be seen frx>m the 
annexed woodcut (No. 36), taken from a tomb of one of the sun- 
worshipping kings, who reigned between Amenophis IIL and Horus. 
From this we pass into an inner and smaller porch, and again through 

two passagea to a dark and mysteriooa sauotnaiy, snnomided by darker 
passages and chambers, well calculated to mystif)' and strike with awe any 
worBhippcr or neophyte who might be admitted to their gloomy precinctR. 

IT. FKude oTTdiiple u n«idFn. Sule to a lo 1 In. 

The celebrated temple at Dendera is similar to this, and slightly 
larger, but it has no forecourt, no propylons, and 
DO enclosing outer walls. Its &(^e is given in 
the woodcut (No. 37). Its Isis-hoaded columns 
are not equal to those of Edfou in taste or 
grace; but it has the advantage of situation, 
and this temple is not encumbered either by 
sand or huts, as the other is, so that its effect 
on travellers is always more striking. 

The Roman temple at Ealabsche (woodcuts 
Kos. 39 and 40), above the Cataract, is a fair 
specimen of these temples on a smaller scale. The 
section (woodcut No. 40) shows one of tho modes 
by which a scanty light 
was introduced into the 
inner cells, and their gra- 
dation in height. The 
position, too, of its pro- 
pylons is a striking in- 
stance of the irregularity 
which distinguishes all 
tho later Egyptian styles 
from that of the rigid, pro- 
portion-loving, pyramid- 
builders of Memphis. 

This irregularity of 
plan was nowhere carried 
to such an extent as i 
the Ptolemaic temple o 
the island of Phil^. Hero 
no two buildings, scarcely 
any two walls, are on the 
same axis or parallel to one another. No Gothic architect in his wildest 



Part 1, 

moments ever played so freely with his lines or dimcndons, &nd none. 
, ; ) it mi]Bt bo added, ever produced anything so 

I _.,— T .X i beautifully picturesqno as this. It contains 

"' ' ■ ■ i all the play of light and shade, all the \-ariety 
^' of Gothic art, with the maasiTeneBS and gran- 

deur of the l^yptian st^le ; and as it is still 
tolerably entire, and retains mnch of its colour, 
there is no building ont of Thebes that gives 
BO favourable an impression of Egyptian art as 
this. It is true it is far lees sublime tban 
many, but hardly one can be quoted as more 

Notwithstanding its irregularity, this 
temple has the advantage of being nearly all 
of the same age, and erected acoordiug Ut one 
plan, while the greater buildings at Thebes 
arc often aggr^ations of parts of different 
ages and though each is boantiftil in itself 
tbe result is often not quite so harmon uns as 
might be desired. In this respect the Ptole 
maic temples certainly have the advantage 
inasmuch as they are all of one age and all 
completed aooording to the plan on which 
they were designed a circnmstance which 
to some extent at least, compensates for their 
marked infononty in size and style and the 
littleness of all the ornaments and details as 
compared with those of the 1 haraonic period 
it must at tht. same time bo admitted that 
this inferiority is more apparent in the BCidp- 
ture of the Ptolemaic age ihan in its archi 
tecture The general design of the buildings 
IS frequently grand and imposii^, but the 
details are always inferior, and the sculpture and painting, which in 
the great age add so much to the beauty of the whole, are in the 
Ptolemaic age always frittered away, ill-aTranged. and unmeaning 

vk* (f Toopi* *t EUkK 

Bk. 1. Ch. V. 



— iDJunona to the general effect instead of heightening and im- 
proving it. 

Strange as it may at first eight appear, wo know lees of the mannera 
and cuBtoms of the Egyptian people duiiikg tlu (jn-^k and Human 
domination, than we do of them during 
the earlier dynasties. All the bnild- 
iugs erected after the time of Alexander 
which have come down to our time are 
essentially temples. Nothing that can 
be called a palaoe or pavilion haa sur- 
vived, and no tomle are known to 
exist We have conttequently no pic- 
tures of gardens, with their villas and 
fish-ponds ; no farms, with their cattle ; 
no fiinnyards, with their gecee and 
ducks; no ploughing or sowing; no 
repreeentations of the mechanical arts ; 
no dancing or amusements; no arms 
or campaigns. Kothing, in short, but 
worship in its most material and least ' 
intellectual form. 

It is a curious inversion of the i^ punofTsinpieMPhiiK. 

usually received dogmata on this sub- ''^ '*" "" ' 

ject, but as we read the history of Egypt as written on her monu- 
ments, we find her first wholly occupied with the arts of peace, agri- 
cultural and industrio^lH, avoiding war and prieutcraft, and eminently 
practical in all her undertakings. In the middle period we find her 
half political, half religious ; sunk from her early happy position to a 
state of afiUirs such as existed in Europe in the Middle Ages. In her 
third and last stage we find her fallen under the absolute infiuenee 
of the most degrading superstition. We know from her masters 
that she had no political freedom, and no external influence at this 
time ; but we hardly expected to find her sinking deeper and deeper 
into superstition, at a time when the world was advancing forward 
with such rapid strides in the march of civilization, as was the case 
between the ages of Alexander and that of Constantine. It probably 
was in consequence of this retrograde course that her civilization 
perished so absolutely and entirely under tho influence of the rising 
star uf Christianity; aud that, long before the Arab conqucMt, not a 
trace of it was left iu any form. What had stood the vicissitudes of 
3000 years, and was complete and stable under Hadrian, hod vanished 
when Coustantine ascended the throne. 

If, however, their civilization passed so suddenly away, their build- 
ings remain to the present day ; and taken altogether, we may perhaits 
safely assert that the Egyptians were the moat essentially a building 


people of all those we are acquainted with, and the most generally 
successful in all they attempted in this way. The Greeks, it is true, 
surpassed them in refinement and beauty of detail, and in the class of 
sculpture with which they ornamented their buildings, while the Gothic 
architects &r excelled them in constinctive cleverness ; but with these 
exceptions no other styles can be put in competition with them. At the 
same time, neither Grecian nor Gothic architects understood more 
perfectly all the gradations of art, and the exact character that should 
be given to every form and every detail. Whether it was the plain 
flat-sided pyi-amid, the crowded and massive hypostyle hall, the playful 
pavilion, or the luxurious dwelling — in all these the Egyptian under- 
stood perfectly both how to make the general design express exactly 
what he wanted, and to make every detail, and all the various 
materials, contribute to the general effect They understood, also, 
better than any other nation, how to use sculpture iu combination with 
architecture, and to make their colossi and avenues of sphinxes group 
themselves into parts of one groat design, and at the same time to use 
historical paintings, £eiding by insensible degrees into hieroglyphics on 
the one hand, and into sculpture on the other — linking the whole 
together with the highest class of phonetic utterance. With the most 
brilliant colouring, they thus harmonised all these arts into one great 
whole, unsurpassed by anything the world has seen during the thirty 
centuries of struggle and aspiration that have elapsed since the brilliant 
days of the great kingdom of the Pharaohs. 




Kingdom of Meroe — Pynnniila. 

It was long a question with the learned whether civilization ascended 
or descended the Nile — whether it was a fact, as the Greeks evidently 
believed, that Meroe was the parent state whence the Eg3rptians had 
migrated to the north, bringing with them the religion and the arts 
which afterwards flourished at Thebes and Memphis, — or whether 
these had been elaborated in the fertile plains of Egypt, and only in 
later times had extended to the Upper Nile. 

Hecent discoveries have rendered it nearly certain that the latter is 
the correct statement of the fects — within historic times at least — that 
the fertile and easy cultivated Delta was first occupied and civilised ; 
then Thebes, and afterwards Meroe. At the same time it is by no 
means improbable that the Ethiopians were of the same stock as the 
Thebans, though differing essentially from the Memphites, and that the 
former may have regarded these remote kindred with respect, perhaps 
even with a degree of half-superstitious reverence due to their remote 
situation in the centre of a thinly peopled continent, and have in 
consequence invented those fables which the Greeks interpreted too 

If any such earlier civilization existed in these lands, its records and 
its monuments have perished. No building is now found in Meroe 
whose date extends beyond the time of the great king Tirhakah, of the 
25th Egyptian dynasty, B.C. 724 to 080, unless it be those bearing the 
name of one king, Amoum Gori, who was connected with the intruding 
race of sun- worshippers, which broke in upon the continuous succession 
of the kings of the 18th dynasty. Their monuments were all pui-poscly 
destroyed by their successors ; and almost the only records we have of 
them are the grottoes of Tell el A mama, covered with their sculptures, 
which bear, it must be confessed, considerable resemblance in style to 
those found in Ethiopia. Even this indication is too slight to be of 
much value ; and we must wait for some further confirmation before 
founding any reasoning upon it. 

The principal monuments of Tirhakah are two temples at Gibel 
Barkal, a singular isolated mount near the great southern bend of the 
river. One is a large first-class temple, of purely Egyptian form and 




design, abont 500 ft in length, by 120 or 140 in width, consisting of 
twogreatconrts, with their propylons, and witli internal halls and sano- 
tuariee arranged much lite those of the Bhanioseiou at llieboe (woodcut 
No. 18), and so nearly also on the same scale as to make it probable 
that the one is a oopy of the other. 

The other temple placed near this, but as usual unsyuunotrically, 
consists of an outiir hall, internally about 50 ft. by 60, the roof of which 
is Eupportod by i ranges of columns, all with capitals rcprcsentiiig 
figures of I'yphon or busts of Isis. This loads to an inner coll or 
sanctuary, cut in the rock. 

There are smaller remains strewed about, indicating the existence 
of a city on the spot, but nothing of architectural importance. 

The most remarkable monumeute of the Ethiopian kingdom an* 
the pyramids, of which 3 great groups have been discovered and 
described, llio princi^tal group is at a place called Dankelah, the 
assumed site of the ancient Meroe, in latitude 17^ north. Another is 
at Oibol Barkal ; the third^at Nourri, a few miles lower down than the 
last named, but probably only another necropolis of tbo same city. 

Compared with the great Memphito examples, theso pyramids aro 
most insignificant in size — the largest at Kourri being only 110 ft. by 
100 ; at Gibel Barkel the largest is only 88 ft, square ; at Meroe none 
exceed (!0 ft each way. Thoy differ also in fonn from those of Egypt, 
being much steeper, as their height is generally equal to the widUi of 
the base. They also all possess the roll-moulding on their angles, and 
all liave a little porch or pronaos attached to one side, generally orna- 
mentod with sculpture, and forming either a chapel, or more probably 


the place where the coffin of the deceased was placed. We know 
from the Greeks that, so far from concealing the bodies of their 
dead, the Ethiopians had a manner of preserving them in some trans- 
parent substance, which rendered them porminently visible after 

To those familiar with the rigid orientation of tliose of Lower 
Egypt, perhaps the most striking pccularity of the pyramids is the 
more than Theban irregularity with which tlicy are arranged, no two 
being ever placed, except by accident, at the same angle to the meiidian, 
but the whole being grouped with the most picturesque diversity, as 
chance api)ears to have dictated. 

Among their constructive peculiarities it may be mentioned that 
they seem all to have been first built in successive tenaces, each less in 
dimensions than that below it, something like the great pyramid at 
Saccara (woodcut No. 8), these being afterwards smoothed over by the 
external straight-lined coating. 

Like the temples of Gibel Barkal, all these buildings appear to belong 
to the Tirhakah epoch of the Ethiopian kingdom. It is extremely im- 
probable that any of them are as old as the time of Solomon, or that 
any are later than the age of Cambyses, eveiy indication seeming to 
point to a date between these two great epochs in the connection of 
African history with that of Asia. 

The ruins at Wady el-Ooatib, a little further up the Nile than Meroe, 
should perhaps bo also mentioned here, if only from the importance 
given to them by Heeren, who thought he had discovered in them the 
ruins of the temple of Jupiter Ammon. They are, however, all in 
the debased style of the worst ago of Ptolemaic or Eoman art in that 
country. They are wholly devoid of hieroglyphics, or any indication of 
sanctity or importance, and there can be little doubt that they are the 
remains of a caravanserai on the great commercial route between Egypt 
and Axoimi, along which the greater put of the trade of the East 
aiTived at Alexandria in the days of its magnificence. 

' Herodotus, iii. 24. Diodorus, ii. 15. 

VOL. I. 





It is by no laeanB impossiblo that the rich alluvial plain of Shinar may 
have been inhabited by man as early as the valley of the Nile ; but if 
this were so, it is certain that the early dwellers in the land have left 
no trace of their sojourn which has as yet rewarded the research of 
modem investigators. So far indeed as our knowledge at present extends, 
we have proof of the existence of the primitive races of mankind in the 
valleys of France and England at a far earlier period than wo trace 
their remains on the banks of either the Euphrates or the Nile. It is 
true these European vestiges of an early creation are not architectural, 
and have consequently no place here, except in so far as they free us from 
trammels of a chronology now admitted to be too limited in duration, 
but which has hitherto prevented us from grasping, as we might have 
done, the significance of architectural history in its earliest dawn. 

Unfortunately for our investigation of Chaldean antiquity, the works 
of Berosus, the only native historian we know of, have come down to 
us in even a more fragmentary state than the lists of Manetho, and the 
montunents have not yet enabled us to supply those deficiencies so 
completely, though there is every prospect of their doing so to a consider- 
able extent. In the meanwhile the most successful attempt to restore 
the text which has been made, is that of Herr Gutschmid,* and it is 
probable that the dates he assigns are very near the truth. Rejecting 
the Ist dynasty of 86 Chaldeans and their 34,080 years as mythical, or 
merely expressing the belief of the historian that the country was 

' PabliBhed in the ' Rheinischer Museum,* toL viiL p. 252, et aeq. 


... 2458 

... 2234 

... 197H 

... 1518 

... 1273 

... 747 

... 025 


inhabited by a Chaldean race for a long time before the Median invasion, 
he places that event 2458 b.c. His table of dynasties then runs thus : — 

Year?. B.r. 

II. ... 8 Medes 224 ... 

III. ... 11 ChaldaoaiiB 258 ... 

IV. ... 49 , 458 ... 

V. ... 9 Arabiuns 245 ... 

VI. ... 45 A8s»yriau8 526 ... 

VII. ... 8 , 122 ... 

VIII. ... 6 ChttldaBanfl 87 ... 

Persian conquest .538 

As every advance that has been made, either in deciphering the 
in^riptions or in explonng the ruins since this reading was pro- 
posed, have tended to confirm its correctness, it may fairly be assumed 
to repre»»nt very nearly the true chronology of the country from 
Nimrod to Cyrus. Assuming this to be so, it is interesting to observe 
that the conquest of Babylonia by the Medes only slightly preceded the 
invasion of Egypt by the Hyksos, and that the fortification of Avarifl 
" against the Assyrians " * was synchronous with the rise of the great 
Chaldean dynasty, most probably under Nimrod b.c. 2234. If this 
is so, the whole of the old civilization of Egypt under the pyramid- 
building kings had passed away before the dawn of history in Baby- 
lonia. The Theban kings of the 1 2th dynasty had spread their con- 
quests into Asia, and brought back the reaction of the Scythic invasion 
on their own hitherto inviolate land, and by these great interminglings 
of the nations first raised Asia to a sense of her greatness. 

What we learn from this table seems to be that a foreign invasion 
of Medes — whoever they may have been — disturbed the hitherto 
peacefiil tenor of the Chaldean kingdom some 25 centuries before the 
Christian era. 

They, in their turn, were driven out to make place for the Chaldean 
djTiasties, which we have every reason to suppose were those founded 
by Nimrod about the year 2235 h.c. 

This kingdom seems to have lasted about seven centuries without 
any noticeable interruption, and then to have been overthrown by an 
invasion from the west about the year 1518 b.c. Can this mean the 
Eg}^ptian conquest under the kings of the great 1 8th dynasty ? 

The depression of the Chaldeans enabled the Assyrians to raise 
their heads and found the great kingdom afterwards known as that 
of Nineveh, about the year 1273. For six centuries and a half 
they were the great people of Asia, and during the latter half of 
that period built all those palaces which have so recently been dis- 

'i hey were struck down in their turn by the kings of Bfibylonia, 

* Joseplius contra A|il(>ii. i. 14. 

K 2 



who established the second Chaldean kingdom about the year 62/3, but 
only to give place to the Persians under Cyrus in the year 538, after 
little more than a century of duration. 

As in the valley of the Nile, the first kingdom was established near 
the mouths of the Euphrates, and flourished there for centuries before 
it was superseded by the kingdom of Nineveh in the siime manner 
as Thebes, had succeeded to the earlier seats of power in the neigh- 
bourhood of Memphis. 

Owing to the fortunate employment of sculptured alabaster slabs 
to line the walls of the palaces during the great period of Assyrian 
prosperity, we are enabled to restore the plan of the royal palaces of 
that period with perfect certainty, and in consequence of the still more 
fortunate introduction of stone masonry during tho Persian period — 
after they had come into contact with the Greeks — we can imderstand 
the construction of these buildings, and restore the form of many parts 
which, being originally of wood, have perished. The plains of Shinar 
possessed no natural building-material of a durable nature, and even 
wood or fuel of any kind seems to have been so scarce that the 
architects were content too frequently to resort to the use of bricks 
only dried in the sun. The consequence is that the buildings of the 
early Chaldeans are now generally shapeless masses, the plans of which 
it is often extremely difficult to follow, and in no instance has any edifice 
been discovered so complete that we can feel quite sure we really know 
all about it. But the temples at VVurka and Mugheyr become intelligible 
by comparison with the Birs Nimroud and the so-called tomb of Cyrus, 
and the palaces of Nineveh and Khorsabad from the corresponding ones 
at Susa and Persepolis. Consequently, if we attempt to study the 
architecture of Chaldea, of Assyria, or of Persia, as separate styles, we 
find them so fragmentary, owing to the imperfection of the materials in 
which they were carried out, that it is difficult to understand their 
forms. But taken as the successive developments of one great style, the 
whole becomes easily intelligible; and, had the southern excavations 
been conducted with a little more care, there is perhaps no feature that 
would not have been capable of satisfactory explanation. Even as it is, 
however, the explorations of the last fifteen years have enabled us to 
take a very comprehensive view of what the architecture of the valley 
of the Euphrates was during the 2000 years it remained a great inde- 
pendent monarchy. It is a chapter in the history of architecture which 
is entirely new to us, and which may lead to the most important results 
in clearing our ideas as to the origin of styles. Unfortunately, it is only 
in a scientific sense that this is true. Except the buildings at Persepolis, 
everything is buried or heaped together in such confusion that the 
passing traveller sees nothing. It is only by study and comparison 
that the mind eventually realises tho greatness and the beauty of the 
most gorgeous of Eastern monarchies, or that any one can be made to 

Bk. 11. Ch.1. introductory. 133 

feel that ho actually sees the sculptures which a Sardanapalus set up, 
or the tablets which a Nebuchadnezzar caused to be engraved. 

Owing to the fragmentary nature of the materials, it must perhaps 
be admitted that the study of the ancient architecture of Central Asia 
is more difficidt and less attractive than that of other countries and 
more familiar forms. On the other hand, it is an immense triumph to 
the philosophical student of art to have penetrated so far back towards 
the root of Asiatic civilization. It is besides as great a gain to the 
student of history to have come actually into contact with the works of 
kings whose names have been familiar to him as household words, but 
of whose existence ho had until lately no tangible proof. 

In addition to this it must be admitted that the Assyrian explora- 
tion commenced in 1 84.3 by M. Botta, at Khorsabad, and unfortimately 
brought to a close by the breaking out of the war in 1855, have 
added an entirely new chapter to our history of architecture ; and, with 
the exception of that of Egypt, probably the most ancient wo can even 
now hope to obtain. It does not, it is true, rival that of Egypt in 
antiquity, as the T^T^mids still maintain a pre eminence of a 1000 
years beyond anything that has yet been discovered in the valley of the 
Euphrates, and we now know, approximately at least, what we may 
expect to find on the banks of that celebrated river. There is nothing 
certainly in India that nearly approaches these monuments in antiquity, 
nor in thina or the rest of Asia, and in Europe, whatever may be main- 
tained regarding primaeval man, wo can haidly expect to find any 
building of a date prior to the Trojan war. All our hihtories must 
therefore begin with Eg}^t and Assyria— beyond them all is speculation, 
and new fields can hardly be hoped for. 

The Assyrian discoveries are also most important in supplying data 
which enable us to understand what follows, especially in the archi- 
tectural history of Greece. No one now probably doubts that the Dorian 
Greeks borrowed the idea of their Doric order from the pillars of Boni 
Hassan (woodcuts Nos. 14 and 15) or Nubia — or rather perhaps from the 
rubble or brick piers of Memphis or Naucratis,' from which these rock- 
cut examples were themselves imitated. But the origin of the Ionic ele- 
ment always was a mystery. We knew indeed that the Greeks practised 
it principally in Asia Minor — hence its name ; but we never knew how 
essentially Asiatic it was till the architecture of Nineveh was revealed 
to us, and till, by studying it through the mediimi of the buildings at 
Perscpolis, we were made to feel how completely the Ionic order was a 
Grecian refinement on the wooden and somewhat Barbaric orders of 
the Euphrates valley. 

It is equally, or perhaps almost more important to know, that in 
Chaldaea we are able to trace the origin of those Buddhist styles of art, 

' If the Greekd traded to Nuucratis as early as the 1st Olympiad. 


which afterwards pervaded the whole of Eastern Asia, and it may be 
also the germs of the architecture of Southern India.* These affinities, 
however, have not yet been worked out, hardly even hinted at; but 
they certainly will one day become most important in tracing the origin 
of the religious development of the further East 

In these researches neither the literature nor the language of the 
country avail us much. If the affinities are ever traced, it will be 
through the architecture, and that alone ; but there is every prospect of 
its proving sufficient for the purpose when properly explored. 

It will hardly be necessary even to allude to the decipherment of 
the mysterious written characters of the Chaldeans. There is probably 
no one now living, who has followed up the course of the enquiry with 
anything like a proper degree of study, who has any doubt regarding 
the general correctness of the interpretation of the aiTOw-headed in- 
scsriptions. Singularly enough, the great difficulty is with regard to 
proper names, which as a rule were not spelt phonetically, but were made 
up of symbols. This is provoking, as these names aflford the readiest means 
of comparing the monuments with our histories ; and the uncertainty 
as to their pronunciation has induced many to fancy that the founda- 
tion of the whole system is unstable. But all this is becoming daily 
less and less important as the history itself is being made out from the 
monuments themselves. It may also be true, that when it is attempted 
to translate literally metaphysical or astrological treatises, there may 
still be differences of opinion as to the true meaning of a given passage ; 
but plain historical narratives can be read with nearly as much cer- 
tainty as a chapter of Herodotus or of Plutarch; and every day is 
adding to the facility with which they can be deciphered, and to the 
stock of materials and facts with which the readings may be checked or 

From the materials already collected, combined with the chrono- 
logy above sketched out, we are enabled to divide the architectural 
history of the Middle Asiatic countries during the period of their 
ancient greatness into three distinct and well defined epochs. 

1st. The ancient Babylonian or Chaldean period, ranging from 
B.C. 2234 to 1520, comprising the ruins at Wurka, Mughcyr, Abu 
Shahrein, Niffer, Kalah Sherghat, &c Temples, tombs, and private 
dwellings, all typical of a Turanian or Sythic race. 

2nd. TTie Assyrian and second Chaldean kingdoms, founded about 
1290 B.C., and extending down to the destruction of Babylon by Cyrus, 

^ When the * Handbook of Aichitectnre* . Henry Rawlinaon and Mesare. Taylor and 
WU8 published in 1855, there existed no Loftua tliat we owe what we now know 

data from which these affinities coald be 
traced. It is to the explorati<Mi8 of Sir 

on the sabject ; but even that is only an 


• 538 B.C., comprising all the buildings of Nimroud, Koyunjik, Khorsabod, 
and those of second Babylon. An architecture essentially palatial, 
without tombs, and few temples, betokening the existence of a Semitic 

3rd. The Persian, commencing with Cyrus, 538 B.C., and ending 
with Alexander, b.c. 333, comprising PassargadsB, Susa, and Perse- 
polis. An architecture copied from the preceding : palatial, with rock- 
tombe and small temples. Aryan in its characteristics, and chiefly inte- 
resting as illustrating the styles from which it was derived. 

None of these styles are perfectly pure, and distinct one from the 
other. The three races always inhabited the country as they do now. 
And as at this hour the Turk, the Arab, and the Persian, represent the 
three older races enumerated above. But each race was supreme in 
the order just given, and the style of each predominated during the 
period of their sway, though impregnated with the feelings and pecu- 
liarities of the other two. It is this, indeed, which gives the architecture 
of the country in that age its peculiar value to the archaeologist. The 
three great styles of the world are here placed in such close juxta- 
position, that they can be considered as a whole, illustrating and sup- 
plementing each other, but still sufficiently distinct never to lose their 
most marked characteristics. The materials are still, it must be con- 
fessed, somewhat scanty to make all this clear; but every day is 
adding to them, and, even now, no one femHiar with architectural 
analysis can be mistaken in recognising the leading features of the 






Mimrod v^c. 2234 ? Shanus Vul. Kaleb SbcrgbAt . . . ii.c. 1800 

Urukh. Bowarlyeh, \Vurka .... 2«»93 Sin Sbada. Wuawus? 17(K) 

llgi 2070 SurSin 1060 

Cbedorlaomer 1976 i Punui Puryas 1600 

lonl Dagoo 1850 Arab ounqucrore 1500 ?i 

Already the names of 15 or 16 kings belonging to these old Hjniasties 
have been recovered, and the remains of some 10 or 12 temples have 
been identified as founded by them ; but unfortunately none of these 
are in a sufficiently perfect state to afford any certainty as to their 
being entirely of this age, and all are in such a state of ruin that, 
making use of all the information we possess, we cannot yet properly 
restore a temple of the old C'haldean epoch. 

Notwithstanding this, it is a great gain to the history of archi- 
tecture to have obtained so much knowledge as we have of temples, 
which were only known to us before from the vague description of the 
Greeks, and which are the earliest forms of a type of temples found 
afterwards continually cropping up in the East 

It would be c»»ntrary to all experience to suppose that a people of 
Turanian origin should be without temples of some sort, but, except 
the description by the Greeks of the temple or tomb of I^elus, we have 
nothing to guide us. We have now a fair idea what the general out- 
line of their temples was, and even if we cannot trace their origin, wo 
can at least follow iheir descendants. There seems now no doubt but 
that many, perhaps most of the Buddhist forms of architecture in India 
and further eastward, were derived from the banks of the Euphrates. 
Many of the links are still wanting ; but it is something to know that 
the Birs Nimroud is the type which two thousand years afterwards was 
copied at Pagam in Burmah, and Boro Buddor in Java ; and that the 

* TI.e chronology here givtn ia based whole bus been abstruetc-d and condeuscid 

on the vuiidus papers coiuniunicuted by in bis brother's * Five Great Monarchies 

Sir Henry Bawliufeon to tlie Journal of of the Ancient World ;' from which work 

tlia Boyal Asiatic Society, vol. x. et acq., the tables here given are taken in uu 

and to the *AthenaDum' journal. The abridged form. 


descent from those can easily be traced in those countries and in Cliina 
to the present day. 

The principal reason why it is so difficult to form a distinct idea of 
this old form of temple is, that the material most employed in their 
construction was either crude, sun-dried, or very imperfectly burnt 
bricks ; or when a better class of bricks was employed, as was probably 
the case in Babylon, they have been quarried and used in the con- 
struction of succeeding capitals. A good deal also is owing to the 
circumstance that those who have explored them have in many cases 
not been architects, or were persons not accustomed to architectural 
researches, and who consequently have failed to seize the peculiarities 
of the building they were exploring. 

Under these circumstances, it is fortunate that the Persians did for 
these temples exactly what they accomplished for the palace forms of 
Assyria. They repeated in stone in Persia what had been built in 
the valley of the Euphrates and Tigris with wood or with crude bricks. 
It thus happens that the so-called tomb of Cyrus in Passargadas 
enables us to verify and to supply much that is wanting in the build- 
ings at Babylon, and to realise much that would be otherwise indistinct 

in their forms. 

The oldest temple we know of at present is the Bowariyeh at Wurka 
(Erek), erected by IJi-ukh, at least 2000 years B.C. ; but now so utterly 
ruined, that it is difficult to make out what it originally was like. It 
seems, however, to have consisted of two storeys at least : the lowest 
about 200 feet square, of sun-dried bricks ; the upper is faced with 
burnt bricks apparently of a more modem date. The height of the 
two storeys taken together is now about 100 feet, and it is nearly 
certain that a third, or chamber storey existed above what now 

The Mugheyr Temple * is somewhat better preserved, but in this 
case it is only the lower storey that can be considered old. The 
cylinders found in the angles of the upper part belong to Nabonidus, 
the last king of the later Babylonian kingdom ; and the third storey 
only exists in tradition. Still, from such information as we have, we 
gather that its plan was originally a rectangle 11)8 feet by 138, with 
nine buttresses in the longer and six in the shorter faces. The walls 
slope inwards in the ratio of 1 in 1 0. Above them was a second storey 
1 1 9 feet by 75, placed as is usual near one end of the lower storey, so 
as to admit of a staircase being added at the other. It is 47 feet 
distant fi'om the south eastern end, and only 28 or 30 from the 
other ; but whether the whole of this was occupied by a flight of steps 
or not is by no means clear. Taken altogether, the plan and probable 

' lioftu^, ' Cluildsea and Babylonia,* p. 167. 
- Juurual R. A. 8., vol. xv. p. 200, et acq. 




appearance of the building when cimiplcte may have liccu soini-fhing 
like that repiescnted iu woodcuts Nos. 44 and 45, though there are 
too many elements of uncertainty to make it a roBtonttion which can 
alt<^ther he depended upon. 


l>l*gniIliarl3evai)onorT<mpleiit>liiglw;r. lOO ILto ] Inch. 

PtuiorTnp|>leUHi«lKrr. Suit lOo n. 

The typical example of this class of temples is the Bire Kimroiid,' 
near ISabj-lon. It is true that as it now stands cverj- brick bears the 
stamp of Nebochadnassar, by whom it was repaired, perhaps nearly 
rebuilt; but there is no reason for suppodng that he changed the 
original plan, or that the sacred form of these temples had altered in 
the interval. It owes its more perfect preservation to the fiict of the 
upper ttorey having been vitrified after erection by some process we 
do not quite understand. This now forms a mass of slag, which has to 
a great extent protected the lower storeys from atmospheric influences. 

Jn so fax as it has been explored, the lower storey forms a perfect 
square, 272 feet each way. Above this are six storeys, each 42 feet 
less in hoiizontal dimensions. These are not placed concentrically 
on those below them, but at a distance of only 12 feet from the south- 
eastern edge, and consequently 30 feet from the N.W., and 21 feet from 
the two other sidcu. 

The height of the three upper storeys seems to have been ascertained 

■ Jonnul H. A, R, vol xviii. p. 1, et wq., Sic H. Bttwliuami'a paper, ttcaa wliidi all 
the mSaramluDD hccu given regarding the Bin is obtained. 

Bk. II. Ch. II. 



with safficient correctiicfla to be 15 feet eacb, or 45 feet together. Un- 
fortunately no excavation was undertaken to ascertain the height of 
the lowest and iiiottt important storey. Sir Henry Itawlineon asaamee 
it at 20 ; and 1 have ycnturcd to make it 45, from the analogy of the 

iiilifiiili l 


■ n 


Dtagnm Pljui of Bin NimniniL Sale 100 R. 

tomb of Cyrua and the temple at Mughoyr. The height of the two 
intermediate storeys, inistcad of Iwing 22 feet 6 inches, as we might 
uxpcct, was 2ti, which lioems to have resulted from some adjustment 


due to the chambers which ranged along their walls on two sides. 
The exact form and dimensions of these chambers were not ascertained, 
which is very much to be regretted, as they seem the counterpart of 
those which surrounded Solomon's temple and the Viharas in India, 
and are consequently among the most interesting peculiarities of this 

No attempt was made to investigate the design of the upper storey, 
though it does not seem that it would be difficult to do so, as fragments 
of its vaulted roof are strewed about the base of the tower-like fragment 
that remains, from which a restoration might be effected by any one 
accustomed to such investigations.* \N hat we do know is that it was 
the oella or sanctuary of the temple.' There probably also was a 
shrine on the third platform. 

This temple, as we know from the decipherment of the cylinders 
which were found on its angles, was dedicated to the seven planets or 
heavenly spheres, and we find it consequently adorned with the colours 
of each. The lower, which was also richly panelled, was black, the 
colour of Saturn; the next, orange, the colour of Jupiter; the third, 
red, emblematic of Hilars ; the fourth, yellow, belonging to the sun ; 
the fifth and sixth, green and blue, respectively, as dedicated to Venus 
and Mercury ; and the upper probably white, that being the colour 
belonging to the Moon, whose place in the Chaldaean system would be 

Access to each of these storeys was obtained by stairs, probably 
arranged as shewn in the plan; these have crumbled away or been 
removed, though probably traces of them might still have been found 
if the explorations had been more complete. 

Another temple of the same class was exhumed at Khorsabad some 
ten or twelve years ago by M. Place, but his drawings are still un- 
published.' It consisted, like the one at Borsippa, of seven storeys, but, 
in this instance, each was placed concentrically on the one below it ; and 
instead of stairs on the sloping face, a ramp wound round the tower, as 
we are told was the case with the temple of Belus at Babylon. The four 
lower storeys are still 2>erfect : each of them is richly pannelled and 
coloured as above mentioned, and in some parts even the parapet of the 

^ Fiandin and Coste, ' Voyage en Perse/ offered as a saggestion, the reason for 

vol. iv. pi. 221. which will be given when we come to speak 

* I have ventured to restore the roof of of Buddhist or Saracenic architecture, 
the cellu with a sikra (ziggur or ziggurah, ' I have seen the drawingd of tlic temple 

according to Rawlinson's * Five Ancient in Paiis. They jire preparing for publica* 

Monarchies,' vol. i. p. 31)5, et passim), from tion, but it may yet be »4 long time before 

finding similar roofs at Suiia, Bagdarl, Kef- Uiey are in the Lands of tlie public ; and 

they are bo mixed up with such strange 
theoiies of restoration as to detract cousi- 

feli, &c. These are certainly indigenous, 

and borrowed from some older typo, 

whether exactly what is represented here derably from their value 

id uot clear, it must be confixsed. It is 

bk. n. ch. it. 



ramp still remains in situ. The three upper storeys are gone, so that 
this building throws no light on the position or form of the cella, which 
would be the most interesting part of any. 

Unless some bas-relief should be discovered containing a repre- 
sentation of the cell of one of these temples, wo shall probably hardly 
ever know exactly what the form of the crowning member really was. 
From the imitation in modem times we seem to see dimly that it was 
conical, and possibly curvilinear. But of this more hereafter ; mean- 
while our information is hardly sufficient to suggest a restoration with- 
out the danger of misleading. 

The inscriptions at Borsippa and elsewhere mention other temples 
of the same class, and no doubt those of Babylon were more magnificent 
than any we have yet found ; but they must always have been such pro- 
minent objects, and the materials of which they were composed so easily 
removed, that it is doubtful if anything more perfect will now be found. 

The Mujelibe described by Kich, and afterwards explored without 
success by Layard, is probably the base of the great temple of Belus 
described by the Greeks ; but even its dimensions can now hardly be 
ascertained, so completely is it ruined. It seems, however, to be a 
parallelogi-am of about 600 feet square,* and rising to a height of about 
140 feet; but no trace of the upper storeys exist, nor indeed anything 
which would enable us to speak with certainty of the form of the base- 
ment itself. If this is the height of the basement however, analogy 
would lead us to infer that the six storeys rose to a height of about 
450 feet ; and with the ziggurah or sikra on their summit, the whole 
height may very well have been the stadium mentioned by Strabo.* 

As before mentioned, we have fortunately in the tomb of Cyrus at 
PassargadsB (woodcuts Nos. 48 to 50) a stone copy of these temples ; in 
this instance however so small that it can hardly bo considered as more 
than a model, but not the less instructive on that account. Like the Birs 
Nimroud, the pymmid consists of six storeys : the three upper of equal 
height In this instance, 23 i inches; the next two are equal to each 
other, and, as in the Birs Nimroud, in the ratio of 26 to 15, or 41 inches. 
The basement is equal to the three upper put together, or 5 ft 9 in., 
making a total of 1 8 ft 4 in.' The height of the cella is equal to the 
height of the basement, but this may be owing to the small size of the 
whole edifice, it being necessary to provide a chamber of a given 
dimension for the sepulchre. In the larger temples, it may be surmised 
that the height was divided into four nearly equal parts : one being 
given to the basement, one to the two next storeys, one to the three 
upper storeys, and the fourth to the chamber on the summit. 

^ Rich gives its dimeDsioim : on the 
north, 600 feet; south. G57; east, 546; 
and west, 408. J)ut it is so ruinous tliat 
only an average guess can be made at its 
original dimensions. 

2 Strabo, xvi. p. 738. 

' There is a slight discrepancy in the 
measures, owing to the absence of frac* 
tions in the calculation. 


=^ssss'':> i-ife,;,"- 

llMoHat^ctVirmi.r^atttaiie FromT 


This building is now called the tomb of CyniM, and most probably 
•was BO, though copied from a form which we have juflt been describing 
Be a templs. But it miut be borne iu mind that the most celebrated 
example of this fonu m as often called the tomb aB the temple of Belus,' 
and among a Turanian people the tomb and the temple may be con- 
tiidered ae one and the same thing. 

to. SeoioD d( ramb of C^nu. Ftdiu FloDdin au] Cuile. 

Another peculiarity worth observing ia that instead of the walled 
enclosure that eurrounded the Dira Nimroud," we have hero an open 
screen of pillars standing 14 feet apart, but certainly not part of a 
cloister, nor probably even supporting an entablature, being mere stales 
to mark the boundary of the sacred enclosure. The interest of this 
will be apparent when wo come to speak of Buddhist art ; all that is 
required is to direct attention to it here. 

There is one other source from which we may hope to obtain in- 
formation regarding these temples, and that is the bas-reliefs on ibe 
walls of the Assyrian palaces. They drew architecture however so 
badly, that it is necessary to be very guarded in considering such repre- 
sentations as more than suggestions; but the annexed woodcut (No. ■'>1) 
does seem to represent a four-storeyed temple, placed on a mound, with 
very tolerable coiTcctncHS, and if the upper storey had not been broken 
away the drawing miglit have given ub a valuable hint as to the form 
and purposes of the cclla, which was the principal object of the erection. 
Its coloiiring, too, is gone ; but the certain remains of symbolical colours 
at Borsippa and Khorsabad confirm so complot<ily Iho Greek accounts of 
the seven -coloured whUb of Ecbatana that with the other indications 
of the same sort estant that branch of the enquiry may be considered as 



Part I, 

It is to be hoped that now that the thread is caught, it will bo 
followed «p till tbiB form of temple is thoroughly investigated ; for to 
the philoBophieal student of architectural liistory few recent discoveries 
aro of more interest There hardly seems a doubt but that many tem- 
ples found further eastward are the direct lineal descendants of theso 
Babylonian forms ; though we as yet can only pick up here and there 
the missing links of the chain of evidence which connects the one with 
the other. We know, however, that Buddhism is essentially the reli- 
^ou of a Turanian people, and it has long been suspected that there 
waa some connection between the Magi of Central Asia and the priests 
ctfthat religion, and that some of its forms at least were elaborated in 
the valley of the Euphrates. If the architectural investigation is fully 
oarricd out, 1 feel convinced we shall be able to trace back to their 
source many things which hitherto have been uncxpUincd mysteries, 
and to complete the history of this form of temple and of the religion 
to which it belonged from the Bowariych at Wurka, buUt 2000 years 
&&, to the Temple of Heaven erected in the city of I'eldu within the 
limits of the present oentory. 


Bk. n. Ch. ITT. 






Shalroanaser I. founded Nimroud . . . 
'JMglathi Nfn. bis son (Ninas ?). . . . 

TigUth PUceer 

Asfihur-banl-pal (north-west palace, Nim 

roud) ... , 

Shulnuineser IL (central palace, do.) 

Shamaa Ira 




B.C. 1290 




Tiglath Pilcser II. (south-eastern palace, 

Nimroud ac. 744 

Sholmancscr IV 726 

Sargon (palace, Khorsabod) 721 

Sennacherib (palace, KoyunJilc) .... 704 
Eaarhaddon (south-western palace, Nim- 
roud) 680 

Sardanapalufl (central palace, Koyui^ik) . 667 

Destruction of Nineveh 62S 

All the knowledge which wo in reality * possess regarding the ancient 
palatial architecture of the Euphrates valley, is derived^ from the 
exploration of the palaces erected by the great Assyrian dynasty of 
Nineveh during the two centuries and a half of its greatest prosperity. 
Fortunately it is a period regarding the chronology of which there is 
no doubt, since the discovery of the Assyrian Canon by Sir Henry 
Rawlinson," extending up to the year 900 B.C. : this, combined with 
Ptolemy's Canon, fixes the date of every king's reign with almost 
absolute certainty. It is also a period regarding which we feel more 
real interest than almost any other in the history of Asia. Almost all 
the kings of that dynasty carried their conquering arms into Syria, and 
their names are fiimiliar to us as household words, from the record of 
their wars in the Bible. It is singularly interesting not only to find 
these records so completely confirmed, but to be able to study the 
actual works of these very kings, and to analyse their feelings and 

^ This chapter and that Dext following 
may be regarded as, in all essential respectB, 
an abridgment or condensation of the in- 
formation contained in a work published by 
the author in 1851, entitled, *The Palaces 
of Nineveh and Pereepolis Restored,* the 
only real difference being that the more 
perfect decipherment of the inscriptions 
since that work was published has caused 
some of the palaces and buildings to be 
ascribed to different kings and dynasties 

VOL. I. 

from those to whom they were then as- 
signee!, and proved their dates to be more 
modem than was suspected, for the oldest 
at least. The order of their succession, 
however, remains the same, an<l so conse- 
quently do all the architectural inferences 
drawn from it. Those readers who may 
desire further information on the subject 
are referred to the work alluded to. 

^ Published in 1862, in the ' AthensBum' 
journal. No. 1812. 


aspirations from the pictures of their actions and pursuits which they 
have left on the walls of their palaces. 

From the accounts left us by the Greeks we are led to suppose 
that the palaces of Babylon were superior in beauty and magnificence 
to those of Nineveh; and judging from the extent and size of the 
mounds still remaining there, it is quite possible that such may have 
been the case, but they are so completely ruined, and have been so long 
used as quiirries, that it is impossible to restore, even in imagination, 
these now formless masses. 

One thing seems nearly certain, which is, that no stone was used in 
their construction. If, consequently, their portals were adorned with 
winged bulls or lions, they must have been in stucco. If their walls 
were covered with scenes of war or the chase, as those of Nineveh, 
they must have been painted on plaster ; so that, though their 
dimensions may have been most imposing, and their splendour daz- 
zling, they miist have wanted the solidity and permanent character so 
essential to true architectural effect. 

It is the employment of stone which alone has enabled us to under- 
stand the arrangements of the Assyrian palaces. Had not their portals 
been marked by their colossal genii, we should hardly have known 
where to look for them ; and if the walls of their apartments had not 
been wainscoted with alabaster slabs, we should never have been able 
to trace their form with anything like certainty. Practically, all we 
know of Assyrian art is due to the fact of their having so suitable a 
material as alabaster close at hand, and to the skill with which they 
knew how to employ it. Had their walls only been plastered, the 
mounds of Khorsabad and Nimroud would have remained as mysterious 
now as they were before Laj^rd and Botta revealed to us their 

The only exception to these remarks which have yet come to light is 
the so-called Wuswus ruin at Wurka.* Whether it is a palace or not is by 
no means clear, as the interior is too much ruined for its plan to be traced 
with certainty ; and its date cannot be fixed from any internal evidence. 
8ome of tlie bricks used in its construction bear the name of Sin Shada, 
1700 B.C., but it is suspected they may have been brought from an older 
edifice. Nor does the style of its architecture help us at present. The 
same sort of pannelling was used by Sargon at Khorsabad 1000 years 
after the assumed date ; and pannelling very like it is used even in the 
age of the Pyramids (woodcuts Nos. 9 and 10) 1000 years at least before 
that time. With more knowledge we may recognise minor features which 
may enable us to discriminate more exactly, but at present we only 
know that this class of pannelling was used for the adornment of external 

> LoauB, * Chaldea and Babylonia/ p. 188. 

bk. n. Cr. ti. 



wa!lMfn)in tlic earliest, ages ilinvn at least to the destniction of Babylon, 
It was probablj- nswl with will-iuaiked chamcteiiKtics in progression 
of stylo; but these wo have yet to ascertain. Externally the Wnswus 
ifl a pantllolt^ram 240 ft, by 17;!. Like almost everj' bnildisg in the 
EnphmtoB valley in thoso ancient times, instead of Iho sides facing 
the cardintil points of the ooropass, as was the case in Efeypt in the 
I'yramid nge, the nnglcs point towards them. Tn this case the entrance 
iflin thoNorth-eaHt iiice. Thecentreapparuntlywiis occupied by a court; 
and oppomito the entrance wore two Lii^er and Bcveral smaller apart- 
ments, the lai^r being .57 ft. by 30. Tho great interest of the build- 
ing lies in the mode in which the external walls were ornamented 
(woodcuts Nos. 52 and ,'i4). These were plastered and covered by an 


elaborate series of reedings and square sinkings, forming a beautiful 
and verj- appropriate luudo of adorning tho wall of a building that had 
no external openings. 

lliia Bj-Btem is carried still further in a fragment of a wall in the 
same city, but of uncertain date. In this instance these reedings — 
there are no panels in the smaller fragment — and tho plain surfeces are 
ornamented by an elaborate mosaic, of email cones about 3 or 3j in. 
long. The butt or thicker end of these is dipped in colour, and they 
are then built np into patterns an shown in tho woodcut No. 54. It 
is probable that the walls of the WuBwtis were adorned with similar 
pftttcms in colours, but being executed in less durable materials have 
perished. Indeed from tho accounts which wo have, as well as from 




the remainB, -wo aro justified in asserting thiit this style of architecture 
depended for its cffeet on colour as much, at lonst, if not more, than on 
fornt. Could colour be nmJe ae permanent this might frequently be 
wise, but too great dtpeiidcnce on it has deprived us of half the know- 
ledge wo might otherwise possess of the architectural effect* of other 

hi I n 

> o o 


Notwithstanding the wonderful results that were achieved in 
tan or twelve years daring which the Assyrian explorations ' 

Bk. U. Ch. in. ASSYRIAN PALACES. 149 

pursued with activity, it is by no means impossible but that much 
more still renuiins to reward an energetic and skilful research in these 
mounds. Still seven palaces have been more or less perfectly exhumed ; 
four at Nimroud, two at Ko^ninjik, and one at Khorsabad. Among these 
we have the palaces of Sennacherib and Sardanapalus, of Esarhaddon, 
Sargon, Shalmaneser, and probably of Tiglath pileser. Consequently 
the palaces of all the great kings, whose names are so £imiliar to us, are 
laid bare. Beyond these, the palace of Asshur-bani-pal worthily com- 
mences the series before the kings of Assjoia came into contact with 
the inhabitants of Syria, and consequently before the Biblical record 
begins. It may be that other works of the same kings may be dis- 
covered, or the buildings of some loss celebnitod monarch, but if we do 
not know all that is to bo known, we may rest assured that we already 
liave Jicquired the greater part of the knowknlge thjit is to bo obtained 
from these explorations. 


The oldest of the buildings hitherto excavated in Assyria is the 
North- West palace at Nimroud, built by Asshur-bani-pal, about the 
y«ir 884 B.C. Though not the largest, it more than nuikes up for this 
deficiency by the beauty of its sculptures, and the general elegance of 
its omaments. As will be seen by the annexed woodcut (No. 55), the 
excavated portion of the paLice is nearly a square, about 330 ft. each 
way. The principal entrance was on the north, at the head of a noble 
flight of steps, leading fix>m the river to the level of the terrace on 
which the palace stood. From this, two entrances, adorned with 
winged bulls, led to a great hall, 152 ft. in length by 32 in width, at 
the upper end of which was situated the throne, and at the lower a 
smaller apartment or vestibule opened on the terrace that overlooked 
the river. Within the great hall was one of smaller dimensions, open- 
ing into the centml court of the palace, the entnince of which was so 
an-anged as to ensure privacy, proving that it partook of the nature of 
the private apartments or Hareem of the palace. To the eastward of 
this was arranged a suite of apartments, three deep, decreasing in width 
as they receded from the light. To the south was a double suite, 
apparently the banqueting-halls of the palace, and to the westward a 
fourth suite, more ruined, however, than the rest, owing to its being 
situated so near the edge of the terrace. As £ir as can be made out, the 
rooms on this fiico seem to have been arranged three deep : the outer 
oiKjiiing on the ten*ace by three portals, the central one of which had 
winged bulls, but the lateral seem to have been without these orna- 
ments; the whole facade being about 330 ft. in extent, north and 



All theee ajtartmeuta were line<l with Hculiitured alabtt, representing 
mostly either tho regal stato of the eovcroign, his prowees in war, or 
amuRemcnta during peace, but many of them were wholly devoted to reli- 
IpouB s<ibject6. Iteyoud these apartments were many others, covering 
at least an equal extent of ground, hut, their walls having been only 
plastered and painted, the sun-bamt briuks of which they were built 
hayo crumbled again to their original mud. It ih evident, however, 
that they were inferior to those already descril>cd, both in form and 
Hze, and applied to inferior purpoeos. 

The mound at Nimroud was so much extended after this pilacc wan 
built, and so oovcrwl by subawiuent buildingn. that it is now iinposiiiblo 
to ascertain cither tlie extent or fonn of this, which is tho only palaoc 
of tho older dynasty known ; and it will therefore perhaps U- as well 
to turn at once in Khorsalnul, whicli, being built wholly by one king. 
and not altered uft«rwardM, will give a clearer idea of the position and 
arrangements of an Assyrian pulaco than we cnn obtain &om any one 
on tho Kimniud mound. 

' TJiinplaivuitliull tlie lurticiilum licii: uii cvvr; i>i>iiiL Tlic |.liiii ia niliiccU l.> 
iiicutknieil, am Inkcn froiu Ijnynnt'ti wcirk. , Iho ubiiuI hvuIo «l lOlJ (I. to I iiirli. Tur amy 
whicli in the ihiIv null uirity uii Uw buIiJii'I. uHainrisuii witli timtiit Klmrjubiul und Ui>! 
■o thai it ii licit iniaaMary to tvtet lo hiui PcnifpuliLm iiikI "llicr Lililioos luiito). 

The city of Khoi-Hnbud waa eitnated alxiut 16 njilcH from Niiiovch, 

Kbunnlwl, NubCalF. 

in a noi'tLcrly lUittctinii, and was iioarly wjuaro in pluii, moatiunng 
abimt an English niilo oiidi way. Nearly in the ocntio of tlic nortL- 



western wall was a gap, in which was situated the moimd on which 
the palace stood. It seems to have been a peculiarity common to all 
Assyrian palaces to be so situated. Their builders wisely objected to 
being surrounded on all sides by houeee and walls, and at the same 
time Botight the protection of a walled enclosure to cover the gateways 
and entrances to their palaces. At Koyunjife and Kimroud the outer 
6u>e of the palace was covered and protected by the river Tigris, and 
hero the small brook Kansser flows past the fort, and, though now 
an insignificant stream, it Is by no means improbable that it was 
dammed up so as to form a lake in front of the palace when inha- 
bited. This piece of water may have been further deepened by 
excavating from it the earth necessary to raise the mound on which the 
palace stood. 

The mound in this instance was a scjuare of about 650 ft, each way, 
raised about 30 ft. above the level of the plain, and protected on every 
side by a supporting wall eased with stone of very bcxutiful masonry. 
Behind this, and inside the city, was a lower mound, about 300 ft. in 
width, and 1300 or 1400 ft. in length, on which were situatj.'d the great 
portals of the palace, and the residences of the guards and inferior 
officers i and beyond even this, on the plain of the city, a set of inter- 
portals are (bund, &om which the great winged bulls now in the British 
Husenm were taken. 

Passing these portals, a flight of steps seems to have led up to the 
great "outer court," on the south side of which was a magnificent sot 
of portals leading into what was probably the Harc«m court or private 
apartments of the palace. The public entrance appears to have been 
through a narrow arched passage between the two courts, x in plan, 
which led to the principal court of the palace. From its position alone 

bk. il ch. in. 



we would be justified in awuiuing tlmt thiu paturago waa vuulted ; but 
tlie proof that it wiis so, and that the otbor apartments of tbo palace were 
not, arises from the fact that in it alone the eculpturoe show nu trace 
of being injured by fire ; in every other room the marks of fire being 
too visible, and charred wood is found on every fioor. 

Itail(iri)Kni]MeotSirg«l,K1i nabaiL Sea 

On two tildes the principal or palace court woe open to tlic country ; 
thi' third was pierced wtli the entrance just described ; the fourth was 
adoiiied with a Hj>lcn(lid triple entrance leading to the principal suite 
of apartments of the palace. These consist of three great rooms 
(ir. V. and viii., woodcuts Nos. 58 and 61) placed side byside, the outer 
ones 1 16 ft. in length, and respectively 33 ft. and 29 ft. 8 in. in width, 
ihe central one being both shorter and narrower. At right angles to 
them it4 a foiiilh (No. iv.), overlooking the eountrj-, and within thcHC, 
im the other luind, aro two narrow apartments on the side of the 
Harecm court. A lino of oin'iiings leads through the tliR-c principal 



■\«>Ms. froDting which Js situated one of the few buildings yet dis- 
wvvtvtl in Aas.yria that can with any certainty be called a temple. 
It tttanda in a fourth court, one aide of which is open to the country, 
the opposite side being occupied by eevetal entrancoe, one of which 
loads direet into the ITarecni coi:rt. the others into smaller rooms, whose 
plans and uses eannot bo satis&ctorily made out owing to their not 
being reveted with slabs. 

All those parts hatched on this plan, whether external or internal, 
are rev^tcd with sculptural slabs of alabaster, generally about 9 ft. in 
height, which, like thoee at Nimroud. either represent the wars or the 
jicBCeful umuaements of king Sargon, commemorate his maguificencc, or 
express his religious fii'IingM. 

■I. laOugHlPlinarURthnvprliidtalltaonuiit KbUTUbkl. 3«lc SO (1. u I In. 

Above this the n^lar courses of the brickwork in the walls can 
eron now be traced, generally tu the height of 3 ur 4 ft. morv ; but 
the size of the winged bulls in the portals, and other indications. 
pnnn tliat they must have been raised to a height of at least 16 or 
18 ft. ; and tlie number of painted bricks and traces of colour around 
their bases show tliat they wore adorned with paintings, gcncially in 
oonventioiial patterns, but of great brilliancy. 

Above this we are left somewhat to conjecture. The whole supcr- 
■tractnre was of wood, and has evidently in moat of the palaces been 
by fire. The indicatbns still left, however — the enormous 

Bk. n. Ch. hi. KHORSABAD. 157 

thickness of the walls — the necessities of the climate — and, more than 
all, the existing remains at Persepolis, where much that was hero of 
wood is there repeated in stone— enable ns to reproduce the upper part 
of the palace with considerable confidence. This restoration is shown 
in the two large woodcuts here given, the first of which (No. 59) repre- 
sents the external appearance of the Palace-court, the other (No. 60) a 
section of the three principal rooms of the palace, of which a plan is 
also given (woodcut No. 61). 

It will be observed that the area covered by the walls is of nearly 
the same extent as that of the rooms themselves, so that the galleries 
formed in fact an upper storey to the palace ; and thus, in the heat of 
the day, the thickness of the walls kept the inner apartments free from 
heat and glare, while in the evenings and mornings the galleries 
formed airy and light apartments, affording a view over the country, 
and open on every side to the breezes that at times blow so refreshingly 
over the plains. It will also be observed that by this arrangement 
the direct rays of the sun could never penetrate into the halls them- 
selves, and that rain, or even damp, could easily be excluded by 
means of curtains or screens. 

On the lower terrace another suite of apartments has been since 
excavated by M. Place, who succeeded M. Botta as French Consul at 
Mosul. These differ in many respects from anything hitherto dis- 
covered in Assyria. The walls are neither reveted with slabs, nor are 
pictures painted on the plaster : but they are ornamented by a series 
of alternate reedings, separated by pilasters with square sunk panels : 
the former looking like the stems of trees jammed closely together — 
the latter like deep coffers of squared timbers. 

The details of these excavations have not yet been published, but 
the same mode of decoration has just been described as found at Wurka 
(woodcut No. 52) in Southern Babylonia, at the Birs Nimroud.( wood- 
cut No. 46), and other places, and offers a new stylo which will no 
doubt be further developed by future excavations. This mode of deco 
ration at Khorsabad covers not only the walls of the rooms internally, 
but is repeated on the exterior on a larger scale. There are other 
peculiarities in the form and arrangement of these apartments, which 
will open a new view of Assyrian art when they are given to the 

Fn)m the above description it will be observed that in every case 
the principal part, the great mass of the palace, was the terrace on 
which it stood, which was raised by artificial means to a height of 30 ft. 
and more, and, as shown in the illustration (woodcut No. 57), carefully 
reveted with stone. On this stood the palace, consisting principally of 
one great block of private apartments situated around an inner square 
court From this central mass two or three suites of apartments pro- 



Part I. 

jectcd as wings, so arranged as to be open to the air on three 
sides, and to give great variety to the outline of the palace as 
seen from below, and great play of light and shade in every aspect 
under which the building could bo surveyed. So fer also as we 
can judge, the whole arrangements were admirably adapted to the 
climate, and the ornaments not only elegant in themselves, but sin- 
gularly expressive and appropriate to the situations in which they are 

Another most important discovery of M. Place is that of the gates 
of the city. The«o were apparently always constructed in pairs — one 
for the use of foot-passengers, the other for wheeled carriages as shown 
by the marks of wheels worn into the pavement in the one case, while 
it is peiiectly smooth in the other.* 

Those appropriated to carriages had plain jambs rising perpen- 
dicularly 12 or 15 ft. Those supjxjrtcnl a semicircular arch, adorned 
on its face with an archivolt of great beauty, formed of blue ena- 
melled bricks, with a imttem of figures and stars of a warm yellow 
colour, relieved ujwn it. 

* From tho diHcovcry of Uie arcli, M. 
Place jumped iii8taiitly to the couelusioii 
that becatiMo the Atwyiians could construct 
an arch VA feet Hpan witli kihi-bunit bricks 
for a city gate, therefore they vaulted all 
tlic roomn of their pnlnces with 8U/<-dried 
bricks, tliough some of thc»c aportmcDts 
were upwards of 40 feet in widtli 1 

It would have been quite as logical to 
reason that because all the gates of all 
the walled cities in Europe are arched, 
therefore all the rooms of tlie houses inside 
are arclunl also; and far more logical to 
reason that, because we can construct 
arches 100 or 150 feet siMin for our bridges, 
we should construct e<;[ually wide vaults 
for our rooms. Wo do not, however ; nor 
did tlie Adrians. 

In the first place, a mud-brick vault 
40 feet in span would crush with its own 
weight ; and if employetl in such rooms, 
for instance, as v., vi., and vii. (woodcut 
No. 58), they must have been in absolute 
darkness. The truth of the matter is 
that I foresaw and announced M. Place's 
dis>C4)vcry* loii«c bi fore he went to Khors- 
abad. Whiit ho has done since d<K's net 
induce me to alter anv feature in the 
rc^to^ation I then proi)osed. 

The Rev. Geo. Itawhnson's proposal to 

• • Palact^s of NInoveh and Pi'rBCfKjlifl Restored,' 
p. 359. 

cover the halls with flat roofs of timber, 
withrmt any su])ports,is e<inally untenable.! 
If he had asked any practical builder what 
extent he would roof in this manner with- 
out any framing, and with no other pro- 
tection above than a heavy flooring of mud, 
he would probably have found 20 feet more 
than most men would like to undertake, 
and some of the halls require roofs 42 and 
43 feet in span. In India wo cannot roof 
spans beyond 25 or 26 feet, though we 
have saul and teak timber: at best the 
Assyriiins had cedar. There also wo have 
jierfectly burnt tiles and exquisite chunam ; 
neither of which the Assyrians possessed, 
or at least used for this purpose, or their 
remains would have been found on the 
floors. If Mr. Rawlinson will show the 
Indians how to accomplish 40 feet with 
even tliese {lerfect materials, he would be 
the greatest architectural bene&ctor they 
have seen for a very long time. 

It may, however, be asked. If this is 
so clear as here assumed, why should 
men put aside a reasonable, feasible, and 
beautiful mode of roofing, to propose im- 
jMMtiible arches, and still less feasible 
fiats? Tlio answer seems easy and ob- 
viou!>, but too controversial and personal 
to be entered upon here. 

t * Aadeni Monarchies,' voL I p. 385. 


ITie gatowaj-H fur foot-passcngerH were nciirly of the same dimen- 
Bions, about 12 or 1 3 ft, broad, but they were omament(!<I by winged 
bnltH with humnQ bends, iKtwccn which etuod ginntm strangling lionit. 
In this case the arch sprang directly from the backs of the bulls, 
and was ornamented by an archivolt eimilar to that over the carriage 

Other arches have been found in these Assyrian eseavatjons, 
but none of siR-h extent as these, and none which show more eom- 
plctcly how the AsByrianH in the time of Sargun understood not only 
the constniction of tlie arch, but also ita use as a decorative archi- 
tectural feature. 

There must always be many points, even in royal residenecs, which 
woTiId bo more easily understjxid if we knew the domestic manners 
and nsagos prevalent among the common people of tho same era and 
conntrj-. This knowledge we actually can Bupply, in the present case 
t() a greiit extent, from modern EoMtem residences. Sueh a mode of 
illustration in tlie West would be out of the question ; but in tho East, 
manners and ciistoms, processes of manufacture, and forms of building 
liavc existed iinchanged from tho earliest times to the present day, 
I'hie immuttkbility is the greatest charm of tho East, and frequently 
enables us to nndetstand what in our own land would have utterly 


Pabt I. 

fiidcd away and been oblitorattd 

mmuid itself on wbicli it stands i 

In tho Yezidi House, for instance, 
borrowed from Mr, Lay- 
ard'B work, wo eeo an ex- 
act reproduction, in everj- 
essential reapect, of the 
style of building in tho 
days of Sennacherib. IIctc 
we havo the wooden pillars 
with bracket capitals, sup- 
porting a mass of timber 
intended to be oovored with 
a thickness of earth suffi- 
cient to prevent the rain 
or heat from penetrating 
to tho dwelling. There is 
no reason to doubt that 
the houses of the humbler 
classes wore in foimcr times 
similar to that here repro- 
Bcnted ; and this very form 
amplified into a palace, and 
tho walls and pillars orna- 
mented and carved, would 
exactly correspond with tho 
principal features of the 
palace of tho great Assy- 
rian king. 

Palace of Senvachkrid, 


Having said so much of 
Khorsabad, it will not Ix; 
necessary to say much about 
tho palace at Koj^njik, 
built by Sennacherib, tho 
son of tho Khorsabad 

As tho groat metropoli- 
tan palace of Nineveh, it 
was of couTBC of far greater 
oKtent and far more mag- 
nificent than the suburban 
palace of hia fiither. TJie 
about H mile in circumference 

Bk. n. Ch. III. KOYUN JIK. 161 

(7800 ft) ; and, as the whole was raised artificially to the height of 
not less than 30 ft., it is in itself a work of no mean magnitude. 

The principal palace stood at the south-western angle of this mound, 
and as &tr as the excavation has been carried seems to have formed a 
square of about 600 ft. each way — double the lineal dimensions of that 
at Nimroud. Its general arrangements were very similar to those at 
Khorsabad. It enclosed within itself two or three great internal 
courts, surrounded with sixty or seventy apartments, some of great 
extent. The principal facade, facing the east, far surpassed any of 
those of Khorsabad, both in size and magnificence, being adorned by 
ten winged bulls of the largest dimensions, with a giant between each 
of the two principal external ones, in the manner shoAvn in the annexed 
woodcut (Na 63), besides smaller sculptures — the whole extending 
to a length of not less than 350 ft. Inside this great portal was a hall, 
180 ft in length by 42 in width, with a recess at each end, through 
which access was obtained to two court-yards, one on the right and one 
on the left ; and beyond these to the other and apparently the more 
private apartments of the palace, which overlooked the country and the 
river Tigris, flowing to the westward of the palace — the principal 
entrance, as at Khorsabad, being from the city. 

It is impossible, of course, to say how much further the palace 
extended, though it is probable that nearly all the apartments which 
were rev^ted with sculptures have been laid open ; but what has been 
excavated occupies so small a portion of the mound that it is impos- 
sible to be unimpressed with the conviction that it forms but a very 
small fraction of the imperial palace of Nineveh. Judging even from 
what has as yet been uncovered, it is, of all tlie buildings of antiquity, 
alone surpassed in magnitude by the great palace-temple at Kamac ; 
and, when we consider the vastness of the mound on which it was 
raised, and the richness of the ornaments with which it was adorned, 
a doubt arises whether it was not as great, or at least as expensive, a 
work as the great palace-temple of Thebes. The latter, however, was 
built with far higher motives, and designed to last through ages, while 
the palace at Nineveh was built only to gratify the barbaric pride of 
a wealthy and sensual monarch, and perished with the ephemeral 
dynasty to which he belonged. 

Palack of Esarhaddon. 

Another Assyrian palace, of which considerable remains still exist, 
is that of Esarhaddon, commonly known as the South- West Palace at 
Nimroud. Like the others, this too has been destroyed by fire, and 
the only part that remains sufficiently entire to bo descril>ed is the 
entrance or southern hall. Its general dimensions are 1 05 ft. in length 
by 62 ft in width, and it consequently is the largest hall yet foimd in 

VOL. I. M 


Part I. 

Assyria. The architects, however, either from conntractive necessities 
or for purposes of state, divided it down the centre 
by a wall supporting dwarf columua, forming a 
^> . , . ^m central galleiy, to which access was had by bridge 
^T M[ ° ^^k galleries at both ends, a mode of arrangement 
^ ° H • Hk- capable of great variety and picturesqneness of 
H "11° B effect, and of which there is little doubt that the 
- — ' ■ builders availed themacivcs to the fullest extent 
This led into a court-yard of considerable dimen- 
sions, surrounded by apartments, but they are 
all too much destroyed by fire to be intelligible. 
Another great palace, built, as appears irom 
the inscriptions, by a son of £sarhaddon, has 
been discovered nearly in the centre of the 
M. Hiu of SoDiti.WHtPiiin'. mound at Koyunjik. Its terrace-wall has been 
Sal. iw a to 1 toch. explored for neariy 300 ft. in two directions from 
the angle near which the principal entrance is placed. This is on a 
level 20 ft lower than the palace itself, which ia reached by an inclined 
) nearly 200 ft. in length, adorned with sculpture on both side«. 

Oninl Fthrt, KoTanjlk. Sab ico feel 

Bi. ir. ch. III. 


The palace itself, as far as its exploration has been carried, appears 
similar in ite arrangemente to those already described ; but the eculp- 
tnres with which it is adorned are more tninuto and delicate, and show 
a more perfect imitation of nature, than the earlier osamplcs, though 
inferior to them in grandeur of conception and breadth of design. 

The architectural details also display a degree of elegance and an 
amount of elaborate finish not usually found in the earlier examples, 
as IB well illustrated by the woodcut No. 66, representing one of the 
pavement alabe of the palace. It is of the same design, and similarly 
ornamented, but the finixh is better, and the execution more elaborate, 
than in any of the more ancient examples wo arc acquainted with. 


Besides these, there were on the mound at Nimroiid a central palace 
built by Tiglath-POeser, and one at the south-eastern angle of the 
mound, built by a grandson of Esarhaddnn, but both are too much 
mined for the tracing of either their form or extent to ba feasible. 
Around the great I'yramid, at the north-west angle of the mound, 
were buildings more resembling temples than any otbeis on it- 
all the sculptures upon them pointing apparently to devotional pur- 
poses, though in form they differed but little from the palaces. At the 
same time there is certainly nothing in them to indicate that the mound 
at the base of which they were situated was appropriated to the dead, 
or to funereal purposes. Between the north-west and south-west palaces 

M 2 


there was also raised a terrace higher than the rest, on which were 
situated some chambers the use of which it is not easy to determine. 

Notwithstanding -the impossibility that now exists of making out 
all the details of the buildings situated on the great mounds of Nimroud 
and Koyunjik, it is evident that these great groups of buildings must 
have ranked among the most splendid monuments of antiquity, sur- 
rounded as they were by stone-£EU^ terraces, and approached on every 
side by noble flights of stairs. \Vhen all the palaces with their towers 
and temples were seen gay with colour, and crowded with all the state 
and splendour of an eastern monarch, they must have formed a scene 
of such dazzling magnificence that one can easily comprehend how the 
inhabitants of the little cities of Greece or Judea were betrayed into 
such extravagant hyperbole when speaking of the size and splendour of 
the great cities of Assyria. 

The worst feature of all this splendour was its ephemeral character 
— though perhaps it is owing to this very fact that we now know so 
much about it — for, like the reed that bends to the storm and recovers 
its elasticity, while the oak is snapped by its violence, these relics of 
a past age have retained to some extent their pristine beauty. Had 
these buildings been constructed like those of the Egyptians, their 
remains would probably have been applied to other purposes long ago ; 
but having been overwhelmed so early and forgotten, they have been 
preserved to our day ; nor is it difficult to see how this has occurred. 
The pillars that supported the roof being of wood, probably of cedar^ 
and the beams on the under side of the roof being of the same material, 
nothing was easier than to set fire to them. The £ill of the roofs, which 
were probably composed, as at the present day, of 5 or 6 ft, of earth, and 
which is requisite to keep out heat as well as wet, would alone suffice 
to bury the building up to the height of the sculptures. The gradual 
crumbling of the thick walls consequent on their unprotected exposure 
to the atmosphere would add 3 or 4 ft. to this : so that it is hardly too 
much to suppose that green grass might have been gix)wing over the 
buried palaces of Nineveh before two or three years had elapsed from 
the time of their destruction and desertion. When once this had taken 
place, the mounds afforded far too tempting positions not to be speedily 
oocupied by the villages of the natives ; and a few centuries of mud-hut 
building would complete the process of entombment so completely as 
to protect the hidden remains perfectly for the centuries during which 
they have lain buried. These have now been recovered to such an extent 
as enables us to restore their form almost as certainly as we can those of 
the temples of Greece or Bome, or of any of the great nations of antiquity. 

It 18 by no means improbable that at some future period we may be 
ftUe to restore much that is now unintelligible, from the representations 
lA bnlklmgi on the sculptures, and to complete our account of their style 

of architecture irom illuatmtiona drawn by the Assyrians themsel'vea 
Oue or two of these havs already been publiNhed. The annexed wood- 
cut, for instance (No. 67), of a bas-relief representing a little fishing- 

^ /-i/\ r,f\j \r\ iv\ A / s ^x 

pavilion on the water's edge, exhibits in a rude manner all the parts of 
on Assyrian order with its entablature, and *ho capital only requires to 
be slightly elongated to make it similar to those found at I'ersepolis. 
Another from the Central Palace, Koyuiijik, repeats tlio same ar- 

\ *\ \ 


Aajfhn Tci^ilc (NdtUi P^iae, KoruDjIlE^ Fram K> 


Part 1. 

rangement, witli pillars which muBt be cunsiderod as early ezatnplee of 
the Corinthian order, and, if we may trust the drawing, it likewiee 
i-epresents an utjueduct with hurizontally constructed arches of pointed 

A third representation from the same palace seemB intended to 
portray a complete palace fa^e, with its winged bulls in the entrance 

and its colossal lions on the front. Above these animals, bat not 
apparently meant to bo represented as resting on them, are pillars in 
antis, as in the two previous illustrations.' Unfortunately the cormco 


Eilerfor of ■ Piitct, tnm > Du-nlMU Kojimjik. 

I This bpule, u I resd it, ii identical I I^laco aa a rcpreaentatioii of an Aa^rian 
Ul the one I ended at the Crystal | lafade, long before this slab «»« exhumed 

bk. ir. ch. in. 



iobrokcD away, and the whole is more carolossly executed than is usual 
in these sculptures. 

Another curious representation (woodcut No, 70) is that of a 
palace of two storoye, from a bas-rolief at Koj'unjik, ehowing a rango 
of openings under the roof in both storeyu, each opening being divided 
into three parts by two Ionic coIumuH betwetm square piere, and are 
probably meant to represent sncli an arrangement ao that shown in 
woodcutH Nob. C7 atid C8. On the right the upper storey is a correct 
representation of the panelled style of ornamentation recently dis- 
covered at Ehorsabad and elsewhere, and which we know from recent 
discoveries to have been so favourite a mode of decorating walls in 
that age. 

The most remarkable fact, however, that we gather from all these 
illustrations is that the lavourite arrangemeut was a group of piUars, 
"distyle in antis," as it is technically termed, viz., two circular pillars 
between two square piers. It 
is frequently found elsewhere 
in the facade of tombs, but 
here it seems to have been re- 
peated over and over again to 
make up a complete design. 
For a temple such an arrange- 
ment would have been inad- 
missible : for a palace it seems 
singularly appropriate and ele- 

Further coinparisonfl will 
no doubt do much to complete 
the subject ; and when the ni 
definitively deciphered, we may find that 
representations of Jerusalem, of 
tjatiiaria, of Susa, and other cities 
fiiiniliar to us l>oth from ancient 
iind from modcni historj'. 

We have no representation of 
the dwellings of private indivi- 
duals BO complete as to enable us 
to understand tJiem, but there arc 
several of Royal camps which are 
interesting. Among tho most 
curioUM of these are the repreeenta- 
tions of the tents of the king and 
his nobles. One of these is shown 
in woodcnt No. 71, though how it 
It seems to have been open 

written over these bas-reliefs are 
really pc)sse6S contemporary 

in the centre to the 


PiRT 1. 

eitlier end by a sort of hood bo arranged as to catch tho passing breeze, 
and afford protection from rain at the same time. The annexed wood- 
out (No. 72) representing tho front and one aide of the Royal horec-tont 
gives a good idea of Hie luxury and elegance that was carried into the 
detail even of subordinate stnictures. 

TiiMPLES AND Tombs, 

Except the Chaldean- formed temples, which have been described in 
the previous chapter, there are no religious edifices sufficiently com- 
plete to enable us to form a distinct idea of what 
tho architectural arrangements of these temples 
were. As belonging to a Semitic people we should 
exiwct them to be few and insignificant 

So little roraaineofthe temple at Khorsabad. 
that it is difficult to say what its original form may 
have been ; the terrace, however, which supported 
jjrfstjiotatt jj ja interesting, as it shows almost the only in- 
Btance of a perfect Assyrian moulding or cornice, 
betraying a similarity to the forms of Egj-ptian 
architecture which we do not find elsewhere. 
The curve, however, is not exactly that of an 
Egyptian cornice, being continued beyond the ver- 
tical tangent ; but this may have arisen ft'om the 
terrace being only ti ft. in height, which placed 
the curve below the line of sight, and bo required 
(rfTrapi6 a different treatment from one placed so high 

above it 88 is usually the case in Egypt 
'llio annexed is perhaps the best sculptured representation that 
exists of what we might fancy an Assyrian temple to have been, and 

SKrrd SjmbuUc Tne of Ibt AhjtIuii. 

the emblem so euBhrined is probably the Aaheerah, or grove, to the 
wonhip of which the Israelites at all times showed such a tendency 

Bk. II. Ch. m. TEMPLES AND TOMBS. 169 

to relapse, and whicli is among the most frequent objects of adoration 
among the Assyrians. 

As a Semitic people we should hardly expect to find any tombs 
among them, and indeed, unless the pyramid at the north-west angle 
of the Nimroud mound is the tomb of Sardanapalus, mentioned by the 
Greeks,* it is not clear that a single Assyrian sepulchre has yet been 
discovered. Those that crowd and choke the ruins of Warka and 
Mugheyr and other cities of Babylonia are the remains of a Turanian 
people who always respected their dead, and paid especial attention 
to the preservation of their bodies. The pyramid at Nimroud seems to 
have been explored with sufficient care to enable us to affirm that no 
stairs or inclined plane led to its summit, and without these it cer- 
tainly was not one of those observatory temples before alluded to. Still 
it is so singular to have one monument, and one only, of its class, 
that it is difficult to form a satisfactory opinion on the subject. 

It stands at the north-west angle of the mound, and measures 167 
ft. each way; its base, 30 ft. in height, is composed of beautiful 
stone masonry, ornamented by buttresses and offsets, above which 
the wall was continued perpendicularly in brickwork. In the centre 
of the building, and on the level of the base or terrace, a long vaulted 
gallery or tunnel was discovered, but it contained no clue to the desti- 
nation of the building. 

The whole now rises to a height of about 120 ft. from the plain, 
and is composed of sun-diied bricks, with courses of kiln-burnt bricks 
between them, at certain intervals towards the summit, which render it 
probable that it originally was not a pyramid in the usual sense of the 
term, but a square tower, rising in three or four storeys, each less than 
the lower one, as in the traditional temple of Belus at Babylon, or like 
the summit of the obelisk represented in the woodcut (No. 76), which 
most probably is a monolithic reproduction of such a tomb-tower as 
this, rather than an obelisk like those of Egypt. 

Other obelisks have since been discovered, some of which look even 
more like miniature models of structural buildings than this one does. 

Till further information is obtained, it will hardly be possible to 
say much that is satisfactory with regard to either the tombs, temples, 
or minor antiquities of the Assyrian people. Their architecture was 
essentially Palatial— as that of the Greeks was Templar — and to that 
alone our remarks might almost be confined. Fortunately, however, 
sculpture was another art to which they were specially addicted, and 
to their passion for this we owe most of our knowledge of their manners 
and customs. To this art also we are indebted for our ability to restore 
many details of their palaces and buildings, which without its aid would 
have been altogether unintelligible. 

' See Riiwlinson, * Ancient Monarchies/ vol. i. p. 398. 


Jtidged by the same rules of criticism which we apply to Claasic or 
Medieval art, the architecture of the Aasyriana most, it is feared, 
rank very low. But for gorgeous Barbaric splendour of eflect it seems 

ObrUikofDivuniliiini. Fno Ujud't HbKVfh. 

difficult to imagine anythii^ that could well have been grander or 
more impouing than the palaces of Nineveh must have been when 
entire and filled with the Htato and magnificence of the monarchs of 






Clyrus fouudit Pa86tirgad« b.c. 560 Darius Nuthiw Ilc. 434 

Camb.vd"8' buildings at ditto 535 

Ikurius builds palace at Peraopolitt . . . 521 

Xerxes builds halls at Persepolis aud Susa 485 

Art&xerxes Longimanus 465 

Artaxerxes Muemon, repairs buildings at 
Persepolis and Susa 406 

Destruction of Persian empire by Alex- 
ander 331 

Theke still remains a third chapter to write before the survey of the 
architecture of the central region of Asia is complete — before indeed a 
great deal which has just been assumed can become capable of proo£ 
By a fortunate accident the Persians used stone where the Assyrians 
used only wood, and consequently many details of their architecture 
have come down to our day which would otherwise have passed away 
had the more peiishable materials of their predecessors been made use of. 

^^ hatever else the ancient world may owe to the learning of the 
Egyptians, it seems certain that they were the firat to make use of 
stone as a constructive building-material. As before mentioned, the 
Egyptians used a stone proto-Doric pillar at least 1000 years before 
the Greeks, or the Etruscans, or any other ancient people we 
know of, dreamt of such a thing. The Babylonians and Assyrians 
never seem to have used stone constructively, except as the revetment 
of a terrace wall ; and it was not till after the conquest of Egypt by 
Cambyses, that wo find any Asiatic nations using a pillar of stone in 
architectuie, or doing more than building a wall, or heaping mass on 
mass of this material without any constructive contrivance. The In- 
dians first learned this art from the Bactrian Greeks, and many civilized 
Asiatic nations still prefer wood for their palaces and temples as the 
iVssyrians did, and only use stone as " a heap." It must have been diffi- 
cult, however, for any intelligent people to visit the wonderful stone 
temples of Thebes and Memphis without being struck by their superior 
maguificence and durability ; and we consequently find the Persians on 
their return, though reproducing their old forms, adopting the new 
material, which fortunately for them and for our history, was found in 
abundance in the neighbourhood of their capitala 

Even however on the most cursory insjxiction, it is easy to see how 
little the arts of tlie Assyrians were changed by their successoi's. The 


winged lions and bulls that adorn the portals at Persepolis, are practi- 
cally identical with those of Nineveh. The representation of the king 
on his throne with his attendants, are so similar, that but for the 
locality it would require considerable knowledge to discriminate between 
Senacherib and Xerxes. The long procession of tribute bearers — the 
symbolical animals slain by the king ; the whole ornamentation ia fact, 
is so slightly altered from what existed in Assyria, that we are startled 
to find how little change the new dynasty had introduced. 

With respect to the architecture of the Persians, it appears at first 
idght to be otherwise ; but on closer examination it seems that this even 
is due more to the material employed than to any alteration in form. 
Something may be due to the fact that the buildings we now find on the 
platform at Persepolis, may have been dedicated to a somewhat diflferent 
purpose than were those of Nineveh ; but even this is not quite clear. 
If the groat square courts of the Ninevite palaces were roofed over, as 
Layard suggested — and as probably was the case — they would exactly 
represent the square halls of Persepolis. But as all the intermediate 
buildings of sun-dried brick have been washed off the bare rock by the 
winter rains of Persia, we can only speculate on what they might have 
been, without daring to lay too much stress on our convictions. 


At Nineveh, as we have seen, all the piUars, the roofis, and the con- 
structive parts of the building, which were of wood, have disappeared, 
and left nothing but the massive walls, which, falling, and being 
heaped the one on the other, have buried themselves and their orna- 
ments till the present day. At Persepolis, on the contrary, the brick 
walls, being thinner and exposed on the bare surface of the naked rock, 
have been washed away by the storms and rains of 2000 years, leaving 
only the skeletons of the buildings. In the rocky coimtry of Persia, 
however, the architect fortunately used stone ; and we have thus at Per- 
sepolis, if the expression may be used, all the bones of the building, but 
without the flesh ; and at Nineveh, the flesh, but without the bones that 
gave it form and substance. 

The general appearance of the ruins, as tliey at present stand, will 
be seen from the woodcut (No. 77).* The principal mass in the fore- 
ground on the left is the l^ropylaea of Xerxes, and behind that and to 
the right stand the pillars of the Chehil Minar, or Great Hall of Xerxes. 
Between these are seen in the distance the remains of the smaller halls 
of Darius and Xerxes. 

The most striking features in this view are the staircases that led 
from the plaia to the platform, and from the lower level to that on 
whioh the great hall stood. Indeed, among these ruins, nothing is more 

^ The woodcats in this chapter, except the restorations, are taken from Flaudin and 
OMeTt *Pene Andonne^' exo^t where the contrary is mentioned. 


remarkable than these great fl ghta of stops. The bu Idera of those 
days were bo far as we know the only people who reallj understood 
the value of this feature The Egyptians seem wholly to have 

negle ted t and th 

H.kH t } a ci cd I ttlc aho t t but it 
fh re so fa as we can und rsland from the 
indist t traces left the sta rs n st have been an important part of the 
dt-nifjn 1( t th y w«e so situated that thej er n t 1 n d when 


the buildinga were mined, and coneeqnently liavo been removed. At 
Jeniaalem too we read Ihat, when the Queen of Shcba saw " the ascent 
by which Solomon weat np to the honae of the Lord, there was no 

more spirit in her." Indeed, in all the aneii.-iit temples and palaces 
of this district, more attention is paid to this feature than to almost 
•ny other; and, from their lavourablo situation on artificial terraces. 

Bk. II. Ch. IV. PERSEPOLIS. 1 7 6 

the builders were enabled to apply their stairs with fer more effect 
than any others in ancient or in modem times. 

The lower or great staircase at Persepolis is plain, and without any 
sculpture, but is built of the most massive Cyclopean masonry, and of 
great width and very easy acclivity. That in front of the great hall is 
ornamented with sculpture in three tiers, representing the people of the 
land bringing presents, and the subject nations tribute, to lay at 
the feet of the monarch, combined with mythological representations ; 
the whole bearing a very considerable resemblance to the sculptures on 
the walls of the Assyrian palaces, though the position is different. The 
arrangement of these stairs, too, is peculiar, none of them being at right 
angles to the buildings they approach, but all being double, apparently 
to permit of processions passing the throne, situated in the porches at 
their summit, without interruption, and without altering the line of march. 

One of these flights, leading to the platform of Xerxes' palace, is 
shown in the woodcut (No. 78). In arrangement it is like the stairs 
leading to the great terrace, but very much smaller, and is profusely 
adorned with sculpture. 

The principal apartment in all the buUdings situated on the plat- 
form is a' central square hall, the floor of which is studded with pillars 
placed equidistant the one from the other. The smallest have 4 pillars, 
the next 16, then 36, and one has 100 pillars on its floor ; but to avoid 
inventing new names, we may call these respectively, distyle, tetrastyle, 
hexastyle, and decastyle halls, from their having 2, 4, 6, or 10 pillars 
on each face of the phalanx, and because that is the number of the 
pillars in their porticos when they have any. 

The building at the head of the great stairs is a distyle hall, having 
4 pillars supporting its roof. On each side of the first public entrance 
stands a human-headed winged bull, so nearly identical with those 
found in Assyrian palaces as to leave no doubt of their having the same 
origin. At the opposite entrance are two bulls without wings, but 
drawn with the same bold, massive proportions 
which distinguish all the sculptured animals in 
the palaces of Assyria and Persia. The other, 
or palace entrance is destroyed, the foundation 
only remaining; but this, with the foundations 
of the walls, leaves no room to doubt that 
the annexed woodcut (No. 79) is a true repre- 
sentation of its ground-plan. Nor can it be 
doubted that this is one of those buildings so fre- 
quently mentioned in the Bible as a '* gate," not to i u\. 
tlie door of a city or buildings, but a gate of 

justice, such as that where Mordecai sat at Susa — where Abraham bought 
his field — where Ruth's marriage was judged of- and, indeed, where 
public business was generally transacted. 



Part I. 

There are three other dislyle halls or gates on the platform : one to 
the westward of this, very much ruined ; and one in the centre of the 
whole group, which seems to have had external porticos, and a third 
on the platform in front of the palace of Xerxes. 


Palace of Daritia. Scale 50 ft. to 1 in. 

There are two tetrastyle haUs, one of which, erected by Darius 
(woodcut No. 80), is the most interesting of the smaller buildings on 
the terrace. It is the only building that &ces the south, and is ap- 
proached by a flight of steps, represented with the whole facade of the 
palace as it now stands in the woodcut (No. 81). These steps led to a 
tetrastyle porch, two ranges in depth, which opened into the central 
hall with its 16 columns, around which were arranged smaller rooms 
or cells, either for the occupation of the king, if it was a palace, or of 
the priests if a temple. In the western side a staircase and doorway 
were added, somewhat unsymmetrically, by Artaxerxes, 

These remains would hardly suffice to enable us to restore the ex- 
ternal appecu^nce of the palace ; but fortunately the same king who 
built the palace for his use on this moimd, repeated it in the rock as an 
"eternal dwelling" for himself after death. The tomb known as that 
of Darius at Naksh-i-Bustam (woodcut 82), is an exact reproduction, 
not only of the architectural features of the palace, but to the same scale, 
and in every respect so similar, that it seems impossible to doubt but 
that the one was intended as a literal copy of the other. Assuming it to 
be ao^ we learn what kind of cornice rested on the double bull capitals 
And what is still more interesting, we obtain a representation of a prayer 
platfixrm, which we have dcbcribed elsewhere as a Talar,* but the mean- 
ing of which we should hardly know but for this representation. 

The other tetrastyle hall is similar to this, but plainer and some- 
wliat smaller. 

^ 'PdacoB of Nineveh and Penepolis Restored,* p. 126. 

Bk. II.Ch. IV. 



Tumui); from these to the hezaslylo halUi the HmalleHt but most 
perfect (woodcut No. 83) ie that standing on the southern edge of 
the upper pUtfonu, the inscriptions on which certainly prove it to 
have beea built by Xerxee. 

'I'ho plntfonn on which it stands is appraiclitd by two fliglits of 
Htcp8,~that on the east being the one ropresenttd in the woodcut No. 78, 
— there are also indications of a tetrastyle hall or gate having existed 


on its sonunit, while that to the west in much eimpler. The hall itself 
had a portico of 1 2 columns, and on each nido a range of smaller apart- 
ments, the two principal of 
which had their roo& Hup- 
ported by 4 pillars each. 

The great valne of thiB 
building, however, is that it 
enables us to understand the 
arrangement of the great Hall 
of Xerxea — the Cbehil Minar 
— the most splendid building 
of which any remains exist in 
this part of the world. From 
the annexed plan (woodcut 
No. 84) it will be seen that 
the arrangement of the wholc3 
central part is identical with 
that of the building just de- 
scribed, as the bases of all 
the 72 columns still exist in 
situ, as well as the jambs of 
the two principal doorways 
which are shaded darker in the plan. The sido and rear walls only 

■Vlf ■■■ ■ iiaiqiir^ 

3 o 

■ ■■■■M If «•{ 

3 • 

■1 ■ a ■ ■ ■ ^ 

» « 


■ ■■«■■ ■ 

« • 

• « 

n o • ai n ■ g 

« • 

5 • 

n n ■ ■ ■ ■ 1 

• » 

» « 

• 1 





« » o • o • ■ 


Rotond PUnsfOra 

Df Xrrjtt It FRwpoIlL Sak 10 


aro restared from the piroeding illuetratioiL Instead of the two distyle 
halls on cither ddo, this had hoxastylo porticos of 12 pillars each, 
simihiv to that in front ; the angles between which were in all pro- 
bability filled up with rooms or buildings, as suggested in the plan. 
Two ordtra of pillars were employed to support the roof of this 
splendid building, one, re- 
presented in woodcut Ka 
85, with double bull-capi- 
tals, like thoau of the porch 
of Dariua's palace. They 
are 67 ft. 4 in. in height from 
the floor to the back of the 
bull's neck, or M ft. to the 
under side of the beam that 
lay between the bulls. The 
other order, with the Ionic 
volutes (woodcut No. 86), 
was also that employed 
in the northern portico, 
and generally in the in- 
terior throughout this 
building, and is nearly 
identical, as far as the base 
and shaft are concerned, 
except in the height of the 
latt«r. The capital, how- 
ever, differs widely, and is 
16 ft. 6 in. in height, 
making an order altogether 
9 ft. 7 in. less than that 
used externally, the differ- 
cnco being made up by 
brackets of wood, which 
supported ttie beams of the 
roof, internally at leant, 
though externally the 
double bull - capital pro- 
bably surmounted these 
Ionic-like BcroUs, 

There is no reason to 

i. iMLirofNortbenironicn. doubt that these halls also 

had platforms or taian like 

tlie smaller halls, which would also serve to shelter any opening in the 

roof; though in the present instance it seems very doubtful if any such 

r skj-lights existod or wore indeed required. 

Si. nilu at Watrrn Rirtlai. 

Bk. II. Ch. IV. PER8EP0L18. 181 

Thus arranged, the aectiun of the buildinga would be an t<huwn 
ill the woodcut (No. 87) ; and preeuiumg this structure to have been 
sculptured and painted as richly as others of its age and class, which it 
no doubt was, it must have been not only one of the lai^eet, but one of 
the most splendid buildings of antiquity. In plan it was a rectangle 
of about 300 ft. by 350, and consequently covered 105,000 square ft. ; it 
was thus larger than the hypostyle hall at Kamac, or any of the largest 
temples of Greece or Komo. It is larger, too, than any modiaval 
cathedral except that of Milan ; and although it has neither the stone 
roof of a cathedral, nor the massivencss of an Egyptian building, still 
its size and proportiona, combined with tlie lightoesa of its architecture, 
and the beuuty of its decorations, must have made it one of the motrt 
beautiful buildings ever erected, and both in design and proportion far 
surpassing those of Axsyria, though possessing much c^ delail or oma 
ment so similar as to be almost identical in style. 

There is no octastylo hall at Persepolis, and only ono decastyle. 
In this instance the hall itself measured about 22ij ft each way, and 
had 100 pillars on its floor; still it was low in proportion, devoid 
of latoral porticos, and consequently by no means so magnifiixint a 
building as the great hall of Xerxes. The portico in front was two 
ranges in depth, and flanked by gigantic bulls ; but as the whole height 
was barely 25 ft., it could not have been a remarkable or pleasing 
object. The sculptures on the jambs of the doorways arc the most 
interesting i)art of this building ; thc'sc represent the king on hie 
throne, and various mythological subjects, on a more extensive scale 
than those similarly situated in the other buildings of the platfonn. 
Indeed it is probable that in the other palaces these snlijectfl were 
painted on the internal walls, as was done in those Assjrian halls which 
were not reveted with slabs. W ilh an appropriateness tliiit cannot be 
too much praised, sculpture seems always to have been used in pari* 
of the building exposed to atmospheric injury, and because of the 
exposure to have been employed there in preference to jiainting. 

Besides thene buildings on the pliitform thero arc the remainx of 


several others on the plain, and within the precincts of the town of 
Istakr is a building still called the Harem of Jemsheed, and which may in 
reality have been the residence of the Achaemenian kings. It certainly 
belongs to their age, and from the irregularity of its form, and its 
general proportions, looks very much more like a residence, properly 
so called, than any of the monumental erections on the neighbouring 
platform of Persepolis. 

Looked at from an architectural point of view the principal defect 
of the interior arrangement, especially of the smaller Persepolitan halls, 
is that their floor is unnecessarily crowded with pillars. As these 
had to support only a wooden roofi some might have been dispensed 
with, or a more artistic arrangement have been adopted. This would 
no doubt have been done but for the influence of the AssjTian style, in 
which frequent pillars were indispensable to support the heavy flat 
roofs, and as they were of timber a greater number were required than 
would have been the case if of stone. Those of wood also looked less 
cumbersome and less in the way than those made of more durable 

It is also a defect that the capitals of the pillars retain at Perse- 
polis so much of the form of their wooden prototypes. In wood such 
capitals as those depicted (woodcuts No. 8G or No. 88) would not be 
offensive. In stone they are clumsy; and the Greeks showed their 
usual discrimination when they cut away all the volutes but one pair, 
and adopted a stone construction for the entablature. 

Notwithstanding these defects, there is a grandeur of conception 
about the Pei*sepolitan halls which entitles them to our admiration. 
Their greatest point of interest to the architectural student consists 
probably in their being examples of a transition from a wooden to a 
stone style of art, and in their enabling us to complete and understand 
that art which had been elaborated in the A-allc}' of the Euphrates 
during previous centuries ; but which owing to the perishable nature 
of the materials employed has almost wholly passed away, without 
leaving sufficient traces to enable all its characteristics to be understood 
or restored. 


The explorations of Mr. Loftus at Susa in 1850 have laid bare the 
foundations of a palace almost identical both in plan and dimensions 
with the Chehil Minar at Persepolis. It is, however, much more com- 
pletely ruined, the place having long been used as a quarry by the 
inhabitants of the neighbouring plains, so that now only the bases of 
the pillars remain in situ, with fragments of the shafts and capitals 
strewed everywhere about, but no walls or doorways, or other archi- 
teotnral members to enable us to supply what is wanting at Persepolis. 

The bases seem to be of the same form and style as those at Perse- 

bk. il ch. rv. 

8U8A— PA88ARGAD*. 


polk, but rather more richly carved. The capitals are alao more 
elaborate, but more eeaentially wooden in thoir form, and betray their 
origin not only in the exuberance of their carving but also in the dis- 
proportion of the capital to the shaft In wood __ ^ 

BO Ui^ a capital does not look disproportioned 
to GO slender a shaft ; in stone the effect is most 
disagreeable, and was to a certain extent re- 
medied at Persepolis so soon as the result was 
perceived. Whether the Persians would ever 
have been able to shake off entirely the wooden 
original is not quite clear, but the Greeks being 
bound by no such association, cut the knot at 
once, and saved them the trouble. 

Inscriptions round the bases of the pillars 
inform us that the Hall was erected by Dariux and 
Xerxes, but repaired or restored by Artaxerxea 
Mnemon, who added the inscriptions. In all 
probability it is the identical hall in which the 
scenes described in the book of Esther took 
place. The foundations of other parta of this 
palace might be no doubt laid bare by further 
excavations ; but the ruin of the plncc has been 
80 complete, that little of interest in an archi- 
tectural point of view can be looked for ; below 
these Persian ruins are probably buried the re- ' 
mains of long-preceding dynasties, which deeper 
excavations would lay bare, and which would i 
a rich harvest to the historical explorer. 

). KaiiDTiil ElpviUoo of Cuijllul 

1 uU probjbility iiHukI 


In their present state the rcmuins at Passai^die are, perhajw, 
more interesting to the antiquary than to the architect, the palaces on 
the plain being so ruined that their architectural arrangements cannot 
be understood or restored. 

On the side of a hill overlooking the plain is a platform of masonry 
(woodcut No. 89) which originally supjwrted either a temple or fire-altar, 
but this has now entirely disappeared, and the structure is only remark- 
able for the beauty of its masonry and the largo dimensions of the stones 
with which it is built. These are bevilled (woodcut CO) not only at 
their joints but often on their iaccs with the same fiat sinking as is 
found in all the Jewish works at Jerusalem, and sometimes in Greek 
buildings of the best age. Thus an ornament of great beauty and 
} formed out of what would otherwise bu merely a plain 

8 of masoniy. 


Part I. 

On tho plain are the foundations of several large buildings, prubibly 
palaces, temples, or basilicas, but all so completely destroyed that it is 
now impoesiUe to say what their original form or destination may 
have been. One pillar oaly ia now stjinding. a plain shaft, without 
capital or base, and moro like an Indian lal than a oolumn deetined to 
support a roof. 

t*. IIju ofPlUSinn at HiHirgida.'. 


FlItK TtMI'Lltf. 

Near the town of Istakr, ami opposite the tombs of Kaksh-i- 
Kustam, stands a lauall tuwui-likc building, ri.-prosented in the wood- 
cut The lower part is solid; the upper 
contains a small H<|uare Hjiartment. roofed 
by two great flnt slabs of stone, to which 
uccess is obtained by a doorway situated at 
some distance from the ground. 

Both the traditions of the place, and the 
knowledge we have of their religious prac- 
tices, point to this as one of the fire tem- 
]ilcs of the ancient Tcrsians. Its roof is 
internally still black, probably with the 
(I. Khniwh V inikr Bomi^, Muoko of ancient fires, and, though simple 
and insignificant as an architectural monu- 
ment, it is interesting an the only form of a temple apart from regal 
state which the ancient Persians jioBsesscd. 

Another, almost identical in form, is found at Passargadai. The 
celebrated Kaabah at SIolva. to which all the Moslem world now 
bow in prayer, is probably a third, while the temple represented in 
wixxleut No. T,'i, from Lord Aberdeen's black stone, may be a repre- 



J" J 
1' J 





Bk. II. Ch. IV. TOMBS. 185 

Bentation of such a temple as these, with its curtains and paraphernalia 
complete. It is too evident however that the Persians were not a 
temple-building people, and the examples that have come down to our 
time are too few and too insignificant on which to found any theory. 


Little requires to be said of the tombs of the Persians; that of 
Darius is represented in plan and elevation in woodcut No. 82, and, as 
before remarked, there is a copy on the rock of the facade of his palace. 
Internally, three small cells contained the remains of the king, with 
those of the persons, probably his fiivourito wife or wives, for whom he 
had destined that honour. Close by this, at Naksh-i-Rustam, are four 
others, and in the rock behind Persepolis are three more tombs of the 
Achfemenian kings, identical with these in all essential respects ; but 
still with such a difference in workmanship and detail as would enable 
a careful architectural student easily to detect a sequence, and so affix 
to each, approximately at least, the name of the king whose sepulchre 
it is. Unfortunately, that of Darius only is inscribed ; but his position 
in the dynasty is so well known, that, starting from that point, it would 
be easy to complete the series with the others. 




Befobk leaving this early section of architecture, it may bo as well 
briefly to refer to the invention of the true arch, regarding which 
oousiderable misconception still exists. 

It is generally supposed that the Egyptians were ignorant of the 
true principles of the arch, and only employed two stones meeting one 
another at a certain angle in the centre when they wished to cover 
a larger space than could conveniently bo done by a single block. 
This, however, seems to be a mistake, as many of the tombs and 
chambers around the pyramids and the temples at Thebes are roofed 
by stone and brick arches of a semicircular form, and perfect in every 
respect as far as the principles of the arch are concerned. 

Several of these have been drawn by Lepsius, and are engraved in 
his work, but, as no text accompanies them, and the drawings are not 
on a sufficient scale to make out the hieroglyphics, where any exist, 
their date cannot now be ascertained. Consequently these examples 
cannot yet be used as the foundation of any argimient on the subject, 
though the curved form of the roofs in the third pyramid would alone 
be sufficient to render it more than probable that during the period of 
the 4th dynasty the Egyptians were familiar with this expedient. 

At Beni Hassan, during the time of the 12th d>'nasty, curvilinear 
forms reappear in the roofs (woodcut No. 15), used in such a manner as 
to render it almost certain that they are copied from roofs of arcuative 
construction. Behind the Rhamession at Thebes there are a series of 
arches in brick, wliich seem undoubtedly to belong to the same age * as 
the building itself; and Sir G. Wilkinson mentions a tomb at Thebes, 
the roof of which is vaulted with bricks, and still bears the name of 
Amenoph 1., of the 18 th dynasty. 

The temple at Abydos, erected by Ehamses II., shows the same 
peculiarity as the tombs at Beni Hassan, of a flat segmental arch thrown 
across between the stone architraves. In this instance it is also a copy 
in stone, but such as must have been originally copied from one of brick 
construction. There is also every reason to believe that the apartments 
of the little pavilion at Medinet llabou (woodcuts Nos. 31 and 32) were 
covered witli semicircular vaults, though these have now disappeared.* 

» Wilkiiiaon's * Egypt and Thebes,' pp. 81 uiiii 126. 

''^ * Muuneru aud GiUitoins of tlio Egyptiaa*'/ vol. iii. p. 2(>3. 

Bk. II. Cu. V. 



In Ethiupia Mr. HoekinB found Mtone arches vaulting the roofs of 
the porches to the pyramids, perfect in construction, and what is still 
more singular, showing both circular and pointed forms, fheee as 
before remarked, are probably of the time of Pirhakoh or at all 
events, not earlier than the age of Solomon, nor 
later than that of Cambyses. 

In the ago of PeammeticuB we have several stone 
arches in the neighbourhood of the p3rramid8 ; one 
in a tomb at Saccara, has been frequently drawn 
but one of the most instructive is that in a tomb 
discovered by Colonel ('ampbell (woodcut No, 92J 
showing a very primitive form of an arch composed 
of 3 stones only, and above which is another arch of 
regular construction of 4 courses. In his rescarclies 
at Kimroud, Layard discovered vaulted drains and 
chambers below the north-west and south-east edi- 
fices, which were consequently as old as the $th or 9th century before 
our era, and contemporary with those in the pyramids of Meroe. They 
were of both circular and 
pointed forms, and built 
iip[iarently with great 
care and attention to the 
principles of the arch 
(woodcut Ka 03). 

The great discovery 
of this class is that of 
the city gates at Khorw- 
bad, which as mentioned 
at page 158, wore span- 
ned by arches of semicir- 
cular fona, so perfect boi h 
in construction and in the 
mode in which they were 
ornamented, as to prove 
that in the time of Sargon , 
the arch was a usual and 
well-understood building 
expedient, and one conse- 
quently which we may 
tairly assume to have 
been long in use. 

On the other hand, 
we have in the templo 
at Der el Bahri in Thebes, built by Tliothmes III. A curious example 
of the retention of Iho old form, when at first sight it would appear as 

.□LUd Dniii btni 


Part I. 

thuugh the tnio arch would have been a more correct expedient. In 
fhiH example, tho lower arclt is compoeed of stones bracketting forward 
borisontally, though the form of the arch is BemioircuUr ; and above 
this iB a ditichai^ing arch of two 
stoucs used as in the Fyramids. 
The upper arch is so arranged aa to 
relieve tho crown of the lower — 
which is its wettest part — of all 
weight, and at the same time to 
throw the whole presBuro on the 
outer ends of the arch stones, exactly 
where it is wanted. The whole 
thus becomes constructively perfect, 
though it is a more expensive way 
uf attaining the end desired than by 

The truth seems to be, the 

Egyptians had not at this i^ iu- 

D the direction of tho radii of the arch than 

as consequently not 

! the Romans with 

It Dcrfl llDhrl. I,(|i(liu. 

vented voUHSoirs deeper ii 

in that of its perimeter ; and the arch with them v 
generally an appropriate mode of roofing. It wa 
their tiles who tirat really understood the true emploj-mont of the arch. 
So far as we can now understand from the discoveries that have 
been made, it seems that the Assyrians used tho pointed arch for tun- 
nels, aqueducts, and generally for underground work where they feared 
great superincumbent pressure on the apex, and the round arch above 
ground where that was not to be dreaded ; and in this they prubably 
showed more science and discrimination than we do in such works. 

In Europe the oldest arch ie probably that uf Cloaca Maxima at 
Rome, constructed under the early kings. It is of etone in 3 rims, and 
shows as perfect a knowledge of the principle 
as any subsequent example. Its lasting unin- 
jured to the present day proves how well the 
art was then understood, and, by inference, 
how long it must have been practised before 
reaching that degree of [Xirfection. 

From all thin it becomes almost certain that 
the arch was used us oarly as tho times of the 
pyramid builders of the 4th dynastj', and wok 
copied in the tombs of Bcni Hassan in tlic 1 2th ; though it may be tliat 
the earliest existing example cannot be dated further back than the first 
kings of the 18th dynasty ; from that time, however, there can be no 
doubt that it was currently used, not only in Egj-pt, but also in 
Ethiopia and Assyria. 

It would, indeed, be more difficult to account for the bet uf such 


perfect builders as the Eg3rptian8 being ignorant of the arch if snch 
were the case ; though, at the same time, it is easy to undersbmd why 
they should use it so sparingly as they did in their monumental 

Even in the simplest arch, that formed of only two stones, such as 
is frequently found in the pyramids, and over the highest chamber 
(woodcut No. 7), it will be evident that any weight placed on the apex 
has a tendency to lower the summit, and press the lower ends of the 
stones outwards. Where there was the whole mass of the pyramid to 
abut against, this was of no consequence, but in a slighter building it 
would have thrust the walls apart, and brought on inevitable ruin. 

The introduction of a third stone, as in the arch (woodcut No. 92), 
hardly remedied this at all, the central stone acting like a wedge to 
thrust the 2 others apai-t ; and 
even the introduction of 2 
more stones, making 5 as in 
woodcut No 96, only distri- 
buted the pressure without 

. 1 1 - 1 ^*- Archefi in the Pyramids at Meroi*. From Hoskinfl. 

remedying the defect ; and 

without the most perfect masonry every additional jt>int was only an 

additional source of weakness. 

This has been felt by the architects of all ages and in all countries : 
still the advantage of being able to cover large spaces with small 
stones or bricks is so great, that many have been willing to run the 
risk ; and all the ingenuity of the Gothic arcliitccts of the middle ages 
was applied to overcoming the difficulty. But even the best of their 
buildings are unstable from this cause, and require constant care and 
attention to keep them from falling. 

llie Indian architects have fiiUen into the other extreme, refusing 
to use the arch under any circumstances, and preferring the smallest 
dimensions and the most crowded interiors, to adopting what they 
consider so destructive an expedient As mentioned in the Introduction 
(l>age 16), their theory is that "an arch never sleeps," and is con- 
stantly tending to tear a building to pieces ; and, where aided by 
earthquakes and the roots of trees, there is only too much truth in 
their belief. 

The Egyptians seem to have followed a middle course, using arches 
either in tombs, where the rock formed an inmioveable abutment, or 
in pyramids and buildings where the mass immensely overpowered 
the thrust, or underground where the superincumbent earth prevented 

They seem also to have used flat segmental arches, of brickwork, 
between the rows of massive architraves which they placed on their 
pillars; and as all these abutted one another, like the arches o{ a 
bridge, except the external ones, which were sufficiently supported by 


the massive walls, the mode of construction was a sound one. This is 
exactly that which we have re-introduced during the last 30 years, in 
consequence of the application of cast-iron beams, between which flat 
B^mental arches of brick are thrown, when we desire to introduce a 
more solid and fire-proof construction than is possible with wood only. 

In their use of the arch, as in everything else, the building science 
of the Egyptians seems to have been governed by the soundest prin- 
ciples and the most perfect knowledge of what was judicious and ex- 
pedient, and what should be avoided. Many of their smaller edifices 
have no doubt perished from the scarcity of wood forcing the builders 
to employ brick arches, but they wisely avoided the use of these in 
all their larger monuments — in all, in fact, which they wished should 
endure to the latest posterity. 

Bk. II. Ch. VI. JUDEA. 191 





Solomon B.a 1013 Herod B.a 20 

Eiekiel 673 Titus a.i>. to 

Zerubbftbel 620 

The Jews, like the other Semitic races, were not a building people, 
and never aspired to monumental magnificence as a mode of perpetuat- 
ing the memory of their greatness. The palace of Solomon was wholly 
of cedar wood, and must have perished of natural decay in a few 
centuries, if it escaped fire and other accidents incident to such tem- 
porary structures. Their first temple was a tent, their second depended 
almost entirely on its metallic ornaments for its splendour, and it was 
not till the Greeks and Romans taught them how to apply stone and 
stone carving for this purpose that we have anything that can be 
called architecture in the tnie sense of the term. 

This deficiency of monuments is however by no means peculiar to 
the Jewish people. As before observed, wo should know hardly any- 
thing of the architecture of Assyria but for the existence of the 
wainscot slabs of their palaces, and they were not a purely Semitic 
people, and their art rested on a Turanian basis. Neither Tyre nor 
Sidon have left us a single monument ; nor Utica nor Carthage one 
vestige that dates anterior to the Roman period. What is found at 
Jerusalem, at Baalbec, at Palmj^ra, or Petra, even in the countries 
bej'ond the Jordan, is all Roman. What little traces of Phoenician art 
are picked up in the countries bordering on the Mediterranean are 
copies, with Egj^ptian or Grecian details, badly and unintelligenth* 
copied, and showing a want of appreciation of the first principles of art 
that is remarkable in that age. It is therefore an immense gain if by 
our knowledge of Assyrian art we are enabled, even in a moderate 
degree, to realise the form of buildings which have long ceased to exist, 
and are only known to us from verbal description. 

The most celebrated secular building of the Jews was the palace 
which Solomon was occupied in building during the thirteen years which 
followed his completion of the Temple. As not one vestige of this 
celebrated building remains, and even its site is a matter of dispute, 

192 JUDEA. Paht I. 

the annoxcd plan must be taken only as an attempt to apply the know- 
ledge wc have ac<|uired in Aasyria and Judca to the elucidation of the 

description of the Bible and Joecphua, and as such may be considered 
of suflScient intercut to deserve a place in the Ilistoiy of Architecture. 



The principal apartment here, as in all Eastern palaces, was tJie 
great audience hall ; in this instanco 150 foet in len)^ by 75 in width. 
The roof composed of cedar, and like the Kinevite palaces supported by 
nwa of cedar pillars on the floor. Aocording to Joeephus, who, how- 

Bk. II.Ch. VI. 


over never saw it, and had evidently the Roman Stoa Basilica of the 
Temple iu his eye, the section would probably have been as shewn 
in diagram A. But the contemporary Bible narratni, which is the 
real authority, would almost certainly point to something more bke 
Uie diagram B iu the annexed woodcut. 

nbigTun SccUonfl' 

Next in importance t« this was the porch. The audience or recep- 
tion hall of the palace, attached to the private apartment*. ' These two 
being the Dewannee Aum and Dewannco Khas of Eastern palaces at 
this day. The Hall of Judgment we may venture to restore with con- 
fidence, from what wu find at I'ersepolis and Ivhorsabad ; and the courts 
are arranged in the diagram as they were found in Kinevite palaces. 
They are proportioned, so far as we can now judge, to tliose parts of 
which the dimcnsiona are given by the anlhorities, and to the beat 
estimate we can now make of what woiild bo most Kuitjible to Solomon's 
state, and to snch a capital as Jerusalem was at that time. 

From Josephus wo learn that tJolomon built the walla of this palace 
"with stones 10 cubits in length, and wainscoted them with atones 
tliat were sawed and were of great value, such as are dug out of the 
earth for the ornaments of temples, and the adornment of palaces." ' 
These were ornamented with sculptures in three rows, but the fourth 
or upper row was the most remarkable, being covered with foliage in 
relief of tlie most exquisite workmanship ; above this the walls were 
plastered and ornamented with pointings in colour ; all of wliich is the 
exact counterpart of what wo find at N inevoh. 

From the knowledge we now possess of Assyrian jialaces it might 
indeed be possible to restore this building with iairly approximate 
correctness, but it would hardly be worth while to attempt this except 
in a work cs[x«ially devoted to Jewish art. For the present it must 
sufRce to know that the affinities of the architecture of Solomon's age 
were certainly jVssyrian ; and from onr knowledge of the one we may 
pretty accurately realise the form of the others. 

' Ju>i<:|itiiiH, Am, vu. 0, 5 2. 

Tkkple of Jebl'^alkm. 

Although not one etnue remains upuu luiuther of the oulebrated 
Temple of Jeniiulcm, still the deHcriptionn in the Bible and Jottephus 
are so preciae, that now that we are able to 
interpret them by the tight of other build- 
ingB. it« hiittory can bo written with very 
tolerable certainty. 

The earliest temple of the Jcwtg was the 
Tabernacle, the plan of which they always 
cunuidered aa divinely revealed to them 
through Sloses in the deeert of Sinai, and 
from which they consequently never departed 
iu any eubttciiuent erectiuns. Its dimensions 
were a cella or Holy of llulics, 10 cubits or 
15 ft. cube ; an outer temple of two such 
cubes 15 ft. by ;J0. These were covered by 
the sloping roofs of the tent which extended 
ij cubits in every direction beyond the 
temple ibwlf, nuiking the whole 40 cubits or 
00 ft. in length by 20 cubits or 30 ft. in 
width. These stood within an enclosure 
100 cubits long by 50 cubits wide.' 

AMicn Sulumun (b,c. lui.i) built tho 
j^. Temple, ho did not alter tho disposition in 
•*" — any manner, but adopted it litemlly, only 
doubling ever}' dimension. Thus the Holy 
of Holies became a cube of 20 cubits; the Holy place, 20 by 40; the 
porch and the cliambeni which surrounded it 10 cubits each, making a 
total of 80 cubits or 120 ft by 40 cubits or (iO ft, with a height of aO 
as compared with 15, which was the height of the ridge of the Taber- 
nacle, and it was surrounded by a court the dimensions of which were 
200 cubits in length by 100 in width. - 

Even with these increased dimensions tho Temple was a ver>' intiig- 
nifioant building in size. Tho truth being, that like the temploH of 
Semitio uatioos, it was more in the character of a shrine or of a treasury 
intended to contain certain precious works in metal. 

llie principal ornaments of its facade were two bmzeu pillars, Jachin 
and Boaz, which soem to have l»en wonders of metal work. The 
pillars we know of most like them are certainly the Suaun and Perse- 
pcditan examples (woodcuts Kob. 86 and 88), wliich have capitals of 
the same relative proportions ; but they are copied from wooden prO' 

I The detail! of Ibo reBtontiun are given in the ' Dictionnrr of tho Bible,' tub mrg 
D my icccnt work, ' The llo\j Si-puluhie and tho Temple at 


■a rofiUurd bj lb \ 

totypea, and are consequently coarser and larger in detail than works 

so purely metallic as these. Although it la easy to understand how 

it was quite powiblo in metal wurk to introduce all the omamentfi 

enumerated in the Bible, and mtb gilding and colour to make these 

objects of wonder, we have no examples , 

with which wo can compare them and an\ 

restoration must consequently he simcwhat 

fanciful. Still we must recollect that this was 

the "bronze age" of architecture Homer 

tells us of the brazen house of I'nam and 

the brazen palace of Alcinous ; the Ti (.aRuneo 

at Mycenw were covered intemallj with 

bronz* plat«e ; and in Etniscan tombs of this 

age metal was far more essentially the mate 

rial of decoration than carving m stone or 

any of the modes afterwards so ficqucnth 

adopted. The altar of the Tcmpk was of 

brass. The molten sea, supported by twcl\t 

brazen oxen. The bases, the lavers and all 

the other objects in metal work wire in 

reality what made the Temple so celebrated 

and nothing was due to the mere masonry | 

by which wo should judge of a Christian 

church or any modem building. 

No pillaru are mentioned as supporting the roof, but every analogy, 
as well as the constructive necessities of the case, and the fact of the 
existence of the two pillars in the porch, would lead us to suppose 
they must have existed, four in the sanctuaiy and eight in the pronaos. 

The temple which Ezekiel saw in a vision on the banks of tho 

o 2 


Part I. 

Cbchir was identical itt dimcnBiima witli that of Solomon, in 80 &t as 
naiM iind proiimw wuro concomod. liut a pawsiigc round tJie naoB was 
intrtidticed, giving accctw to the clianibere, whieli added 10 cubita to 
its diiiiwisioiiM every way, making it 100 culiits by 60, Tlie principal 
court had the same diniensiona at) in Solomon's Temple ; but he added, 
in iiuaginution at least, three conrtK, each 100 cubits or 150 ft. square, 
— one east, and one on the north, anuthcr on the southern &ce. 

\\ hen the Jews ix-ttimed from the Captivity they rebuilt the Temple 
exactly as it bad been described l>y Ezekiel, in so {at as dimensions are 
concerned, except that they do nut seem to have been able to accomplish 
the northern and southern courts. 

The materialM, however, were proliably inferior to the original 
Temple ; and we hear nothing of brazen pillars in the porch, nor of the 
splendid vessclM and fiiriutiire which made the glory of Solomon's 
Temple, so that the Jews wei-e jirukilily justifiLil in uiuuniing over its 
eomjtiinitive insignifiiiinii'.' 


Tta aivhitectare this limp ]irobiil>ly i>art<x)k of the Persian eharactor, 
and if any attomi)tN were made to rcsture it, it is probable that Porse- 
polis would afford ample d*.'tails for a correct repnKluftion. 

In the last Temple we have a perfect illustnition of the archi- 
tectural history of the country. The priests rt^tored the Temple itsett 
not venturing to alter a single one of its sacred dimensions, only adding 

' JoBi'l'baB, Ant. xi. 4, ^ 2. 



1 98 JUDE A. Tart 1 

wings to the fii<^de so as to make it 1 00 cubits wide, and it is said 1 00 
cubits high, while the length remained 100 cubits as before.' At this 
period, however, Judea was under the sway of the Homans, and under 
the influence of their ideas, and the outer courts were added with a 
magnificence of which former builders had no conception, but bore 
strongly the impress of the architectural magnificence of the Bomans. 

An area measuring 600 feet each way was enclosed by terraced walls 
of the utmost lithic grandeur. On these were erected porticos unsur- 
passed by any we know of. One, the Stoa Basilica, had a section equal 
to that of our largest cathedrals, and surpassed them all in length, and 
within this colonnaded enclosure were ten great gateways, two of which 
were of surpassing magnificence. The whole making up a rich and 
varied pile worthy of the Roman love of architectural display, but in sin- 
gular contrast with the modest aspirations of a purely Semitic people. 

It is always extremely difficult to restore any building from mere 
verbal description, and still more so when erected by a people of whose 
architecture we know so little as we do of that of the Jews. Still the 
woodcut on the preceding page is probably not very fiir from represent- 
ing the Temple as it was after the last restoration by Herod. Without at- 
tempting to justify evcrj' detail, it seems such a mixture of Boman with 
Phoenician forms as might be exixjcted and is warranted by Josephus's 
description. There is no feature for which authorit}'' could not be quoted, 
but the difficulty is to know whether or not the example adduced is the 
right one, or the one which l)ears most directly on the subject. After 
all, perhaps, its principal defect is that it does not (how can a modem 
restoration ?) do justice to the grandeur and beauty of the whole. 

Of all this splendour only one little fragment is now left. Beneath 
the platform of the Temple proper, one gateway still remains, which 
may certainly be taken as an example of what Jewish art became under 
Boman influence. It is the gate Huldah, and consists of a long 
passage measuring 41 feet in width. At the distance of 38 ft. from the 
fiuse of the outer wall a splendid monolith supports four arches, divid- 
ing the vestibule into four equal comimrtments, each surmounted by a 
flat dome. All were originally covered with ornament, but one alone now 
retains it in anything like completeness. It would l^ difficult to find 
a more curious illustration of what is sure to happen when people are 
employing a style which is new to them, and which they do not under- 
gtasd. llie ornamentation is of a class that does not belong to domed 
or curved surfaces at all. AVhat is Boman is wholly misplaced, but the 
vines and the foliage which are Jewish run through the whole and bind 
together a design which without them would be very ridiculous. As the 
only specimen of a class it is curious. It is not, however, Jewish, and is 
80 nearly Boman, that we cannot but feel that it is introduced here before 
its time in a history of the successive developments of architectural art. 

1 Josephus, B. J. V. 5, § 4. 


Rwf oTuneof tlKC-jDipaitmciitdDf theGi 

The Temple of the Sun at Palmyra is another building very similar 
to this.' It consiste of a tloistered enclosure of somewhat larger dimen- 
eions than that at Jerusalem, meaeuriug osternally 730 ft. by 715, with 
a email temple of an anomalous form in the ct^ntre. It wants, how- 
ever, all the inner enclosures and curious Bubstnictures of the Jewish 
flme : but this may have arisen from its having been rebuilt in late 
Itoman times, and consequently shorn of these peculiarities. It is so 
similar, however, that it must bo regarded as a ct)gnato temple to that 
at Jerusalem, though re-erected by a people of another race. 

A third temple, apparently very similar to these, is that of Kangovar 
in Persia.' Only a portion now remains of the groat court in which it 
stood, and which was nearly of the same dimensions as those of Jeru- 
salem and Palmyra, being 6l>0 ft. by 568. In the centre are the vestiges 
of a small temple. At Aizaini in Asia Minor' is a fourth, with a similar 
court : but here the temple is more important, and assumes more dis- 
tinctly the forms of a regular Koman peristylar temple of the usual form, 
though stUl small and insignificant for so considerable an enclosure. 

None of these are original buildings, but still, when put together 
and compared the one with the other, and, above all, when examined 
by the light which discoveries farther east have enabled us to throw 
on the subject, they may enable us to restore this style in something 
like itH pristine form. At present thoy are but the scattered fragments 
of an art of which it is feared no original specimens now remain, and 
which can only therefore bo recovered by induction from similar an- 
nate examples of other though allied styles of art. 

' Dawkina and Wood, ' The Buios of Palmyra,' Lond. 1753. 
' Texiet, ' Armenic ct la Perse,' vol. i. pi. 62 Mid 68. 
' Texier. ' Ane Hmenre.' pi. 10 to 21. 




Historical notice — Tombs at Smyrna — Doganla — Lycian tombs. 

It is now perhaps in vain to expect that any monuments of the most 
ancient times, of great extent or of great architectural importance, 
remain to be discovered in Asia Minor; still it is a storehouse from 
which much information may yet be gleaned, and whence we may 
expect the solution of many dark historical problems, if ever they are 
to be solved at all. 

Situated as that country is in the very centre of the old world, sur- 
rounded on three sides by navigable seas opening all the regions of the 
world to her commerce, possessing splendid harboui*s, a rich soil, and 
the finest climate of the whole earth, it must not only have been inha- 
bited at the earliest period of history, but must have risen to a pitch of 
civilization at a time preceding any written histories that we possess. 
We may recollect that, in the time of Psammeticus, Phrj^gia contended 
with Egypt for the palm of antiquity, and from the monuments of the 
18th dynasty we know what rich spoil, what beautiful vases of gold, and 
other tribute of a rich and luxurious people, the Pout and Roteno and 
other inhabitants of Asia Minor brought and laid at the feet of Thoth- 
mes and other early kings many centuries before the Christian era. 

At a later period (716 to 547 B.C.) the Lydian empire was one of 
the richest and most powerful in Asia ; and contemporary with this, 
and for a long period subsequent to it, the Ionian colonies of Greece 
surpassed the mother-country in wealth and refinement, and almost 
rivalled her in literature and art. Few cities of the ancient world 
surpassed Ephesus, Sardis, or Halicamassus in splendour; and Troy, 
Tarsus, and Trebisond mark three great epochs in the history of Asia 
Minor which are unsurpassed in interest and political importance by the 
letrospect of any cities of the world. Excepting, however, the remains 
<rf the Greek and Roman periods — the great temples of the first, and 
iheigreat theatres of the latter period — little that is architectiu^l 
remainB in this once &voured land. It happens also unfortunately 
that there was no great capital city — no central point — where we can 
^' look for monuments of importance. The defect in the physical geo- 

gnphj of the country is that it has no great river running through it — 

Bk. II. Ch. VII. 


no Ttist centra] plain capable of supporting a population sufficiently 
great to overpower the rest and to give unity to the whole. 

So ioT ae our resoarchea yet reach, it would seem that the oldest 
remains still found in Asia Minor are the tumuli of Tantalais, on the 
northern shore of the gulf of Smyrna. They seem as if left there most 
opportunely to authenticate the tradition of the Etruscans having 
sailed from this port for Italy. One of these is represented in wood- 
cuts Kos. 105 and 106. Though these tumuli are built wholly of stone, 

Plan utd S«tlan ol CIiunb« 

e familiar with architectural resemblances can fail to see in them 
t origin with those of Etniria. The stylobate, the sloping 
sides, the inner chamber, with its pointed roof, all the arrangements 
indeed, are the same, and the whole character of the necropolis at 
Tantalais would be as appropriate at Tarquinii or Cfene as at 

Another tumulus of equal interest historically is that of Alyattes, 
near Sardis, described with such care by Herodotus,' and which has 
recently been explored by Spiegclthal, the Frussian coumuI at Smyrna.* 

According to the measurementn of Herodotus it was ther 3800 or 
4100 ft. in circumference at present it is f und to be 1180 ft in 
diamct«r, and consequently about 3700 ft n circumference at the top 

' LydiKhen KikiigBgAber, I. F. H. Olfen. Berlin, 1859. 


of the basement, though of course considerably more below. It is 
situated on the edge of a rocky ridge, which is made level on one side 
by a terrace-wall of large stones, 60 ft. in height ; above this the mound 
rises to the height of 1 42 ft. : the total height above the plain being 
228 ft. The upper part of the mound is composed of alternate layers 
of clay, loam, and a kind of rubble concrete. These support a mass of 
brickwork, surmounted by a platform of masonrj' ; on this one of the 
steles described by Uerodotus still lies, and one of the smaller ones 
was found close by. 

The funereal chamber was discovered resting on the rock at about 
160 ft. from the centre of the mound. Its dimensions were 11 ft. by 
7 ft. 9 in., and 7 ft. high ; the roof flat and composed of large stones, 
on which rested a layer of charcoal and ashes, 2 ft. in thickness, evidently 
the remains of the offerings which had been made after the chamber 
was closed, but before the mound had been raised over it. 

There are in the same locality an immense number of tumuli of 
various dimensions, among which Herr Spiegenthal &ncies he can 
discriminate three classes belonging to three distinct ages; that of 
Alyattes belonging to the most modem. 'I'his is extremely probable, 
as at this time (B.a 56 1 ) the fashion of erecting tumuli as monuments 
was dying out in this part of the world, though it continued in less 
civilized parts of Europe till after the Christian era. 

The tumuli that still adorn the Plain of Troy are probably con- 
temporary with the older of the three groups of those around the Gygean 
Lake. Indeed there does not seem much reason for doubting that they 
were really raised over the ashes of the heroes who took part in that 
memorable struggle, and whose names they still bear. 

It is not clear whether any otiier great groups of timiuli exist in 
Asia Minor, but it seems more than probable that in the earliest times 
the whole of this country was inhabited by a Pelasgic race, who were 
the first known occupants of Greece, and who built the so-called 
Treasuries of Mycena? and OrChomenus, and who sent forth the 
Etruscans to civilize Italy. If this be so, it accounts for the absence 
of architectural remains, for they would have left behind them no 
buildings but the sepulchres of their depjirted great ones ; and if their 
history is to be recovered, it must be sought for in the bowels of the 
earth, and not in anything existing above ground. 

Next to these in point of age and stylo comes a curious group of 
rock-cut monuments, found in the centre of the land at Doganlu. 
They are placed on the rocky side of a mirrow valley, and are uncon- 
nected apparently with any great city or centre of population. Gene- 
rally they are called tombs, but there are no chambers nor anything 
about them to indicate a funereal purpose, and the inscriptions which 
aooompany them are not on the monuments themselves, nor do they 
fefisr to such a destination. Altogether, they are certainly among the 

bk. II. ch. vn. 


most mysterious remains of antiquity, and, beyond a certain eimilarity 
to the rock-cut tombs around I'ersepoliB, preHent no features that afford 
even a remote analogy to other monuments which might guide us in 
our conjectures as to the purpose for which they were designed. They 
are of a stylo of art clearly indicating a wooden origin, and consist of 
a square frontispiece, either carved into certain geometric shapes, or 
apparently prepared for painting ; at each side is a flat pilaster, and 
above a pediment terminating in two scrolls. Some — apparently the 
more modem — have pillars of a rude Doric order, and all indeed are 
much more singular than beautiful. When more of the same class 
are discovered, thoy may help us to some historic data : all that we can 
now advance is, that, judging from the inscriptions on them and the 
traditions in Herodotus, they would appear to belong to some lace 
from Thessaly, or thereabouts, who at some remote period crossed the 
Hellespont and settled in their neighbourhood ; they date possibly as 
fiir back as 1000, and most probably 700 at least ii.c. 

lit fniniisplE 

There are other rock-cut sculptures iarther east, at Pterium and else- 
where ; but all these are figure sculptures, without architectural form 
or dctiila, and therefore hardly coming within the limits of this work. 

The only remaining important architectural group in Asia Minor is 
that of Lycia, made known in this country since the year 1838, by the 
investigations of Sir Charles Follows and others. Interesting though 
they certainly are, they are extremely disheartening to any one looking 

204 ASIATIC ARCHlTECn'BE. Paiit 1. 

for earlier remains in this Innd, — inamnuch as all of tliem, and more 
especially the older onea, indicate distinctly a wooden origin— more 
strongly perhaps than any architectuml remains in the western world. 
The oldest of them cannot well he carried farther back than the Persian 
conquest of Cyrus and Harpagua. In other words, it eeema perfectly 
evident that up to that period the Lycians used only wood for their 
huildinga, and that it waa only then that they, like the Persians them- 
selves, first learnt to substitute for their frail and periahahlo etructureB 
others of a more durable material. 

IM. Ljdan Tumb. tmoi KriUiJi Muwiini. 

As already obeerved, tlio Bamo process c:in.>be traced in Egj-pt in 
tlie earliest ages. In central Abia it was effected by the Persians. In 
India it condnued as late aa the 4th or oth centuries am. Id Greece — 
a wlial. waa not borrowed from the Egyptiana— the change took place 
about I1j6 game time as in Lycia, that is to «ay in the 6th century b,c 
What is important to observe here la that, wherever the procees can be 
detect*^, it ia in vain to look for earlier buildings. It is only in the 
r of vbme architeotnre that men adhere to wooden forma, and as 

Bk. II. Ch. VII, 



Boon as liaHt gives thorn ikmiliaritj' with the new material they 
abandon the incongruities of the style, and we lose all trace of the 
original form, which never reappears at an after age. 

All tl)o original buildings of Lycia are tombs or monumental 
erections of some kind, and geporally may be classed under two 
beads, those having curvilinear, and those having rectilinear roofs, 
uf both which classes examples are fonnd structural — or standing 
alone— «8 well as rock-cut. The woodout (No. 109) represents a 
perfectly constructed tomb. It consists first of a double podium, 
which may have been in all canes, or at least generally, of stone. 
Above this is a rectangular 
chest or sarcophagus, cer- 
tainly copied from a wooden 
fonn ; all the murtises and 
framing, even to the pjni 
that held them t<^ther, 
being literally rendered in 
the stonework. Above this 
is a curvilinear roof of point- 
ed form, which also is in all 
its parts a copy of an ori- 
ginal in wood. 

W hen these forms are 
repeated in the rock the 
stylobate is omitted, and 
only the upper part repre- 
sented, as shown in the an- 
nexed woodcut (No. 110). 

When the cur\-i linear 
roof is omitted, a flat one 
is substituted, nearly simi- 
lar to those common in the 
countiy at the present day, 
consisting of beams of un- 
squared timber, laid side 
by side as clo^e as they can 
be laid, and over this a 

mass of concrete or clay, sufficiently thick to prevent the rain from 
penetrating through. Sometimes this is surmounted by a low pediment, 
and sometimes the lower framing also stands out from the rock, so as to 
give the entrance of the tomb something of a porchlike form. Koth 
these forms are illustrated in the two woodcuts (Nos. Ill and 112), and 
numerous varieties of them are shown in the works of Sir Charles 
Fellows and others, all containing the same elements, and betraying 
most distinctly the wooden origin from which they were derived. 


lt«k^t Lfidui Tomb. Fnxn «r Cbirln Felli 

,^<^ ' ^ 


ut Ljelui Tomb. Knm 

Bk. II. Ch. VII. 


The last form that these buildings took was in the substitution of 
an Ionic la^ade for these carpentry forms : this wae not done apparently 
at once, for, though the Ionic 
form was evidently bocrowed 
&om the tteigbbouriug Greek 
cities, it was only adopted by 
degrees, and even then betray- 
ed more strongly the wooden 
forms from which its enta- 
blature was derived, than is 
uiiually foimd in other or more 
purely Grecian examples. As . 
Hoon as it had fairly gained a 
footing, the wooden style was 
abandoned, and a masonTy one 
substituted in its stead. The [ 
whole change took place i 
this country probably witbin 
a century ; but this is not a 
fair test of the time such a 
process usually takes, as here 
it was evidently done under ,,^ i™,„ L,d«. T™>b. L^t',^;- A^Jtt^^' 
foreign influence, and with the 

spur given by the example of a stone-building people. We have no 
knowledge of how long it took in Egypt to effect the transformation. 
In India, where the fonn and construction of the older Buddhist 
temples resemble so singularly these examples in Lycia, the prooeas 
can be traced through five or six centuries; and in Persia it took 
perhaps nearly as long to convert the wooden designs of the As^rians 
into even the imperfect stone architecture of the Achfemenians. Even 
in their best and most perfect buildings, however, much remained to 
be done before the carpentry types were fairly got rid of, and the style 
became entitled to rank among the masonic arts of the world. 

The remaining ancient buildings of Asia Minor wore all built by 
the Greeks and Romans, each in their own style, so that their classi- 
fication and description belong properly to the chaptera treating of the 
architectural history of those nations, from which they cannot propcily 
Iw separated, although it is at the same time undoubtedly true that 
the purely European forms of the art were considerably modified by the 
influence on them of local Asiatic forms and feelings. The Ionic order, 
for instance, which arose in tlie Grecian colonies on the coast, is only 
the native style of this country Doricized, if the expression may bo used. 
In other words, the local method of building had become so modified and 
altered by the Greeks in adapting it to the Doric, which had become tho 
typical style with them, as to cause the loss of almost all its original 


Asiatic forme. It ttus became essentially a atone architecture with ex- 
ternal oolutnns, innt^ad of a style indulging only in wooden pillarB, and 
thoBO used internally, as there is every reason to suppoee was the earlier 
form of the art. Tho Ionic style, thus composed of two elements, 
took the arrangement of the templw from the Doric, and their details 
from the Asiatic original, Tho Roman temples, on the eontraiy, which 
havo been erected in this part of the world, in their columns and other 
details exactly follow the buildings at Home itself; while, as in iLe 
instances above quoted of Jerusalem, I'almyi-a, Kangovar, and others, 
the essential forms and arrangcmentti arc all local and Asiatic. The 
former are Greek temples with Asiatic details, tho latter Asiatic 
temples with only Eomun masonic forms. 'ITie Greeks in fact irere 
colonists, tho Romans only conquerors ; and hence the striking differ- 
ence in tbc stylu of Asiatic art executed under their respective influ- 
ence. We shall have frequent occasion in tbc sequel to refer to this 

Though not strictly within the get^aphical limits of this chapter, 
theT« is a group of tombs at Amrith — the uncieut Maralbos, on the 
coast of Syria — which arc too iutcresting to be passc<l over ; but so 

' In nali^ tho inonumciit BtanilH tx- I 
Mtl; over tho cuutra of thu nx'k-rut 
■MMldiTe. The Boction lino must, IIktc- I 


exceptional in the present state of onr knowledge, that it is difficult to 
assign them their proper place anywhere. 

The principal monument represented in woodcut No. 114 is 31 feet 
8 inches in height, composed of very largo blocks of stone, and situated 
over a sepulchral cavern. There is no inscription or indication to 
enable us to fix its date with certainty. The details of its architecture 
might be called Assyrian ; but we know of nothing in that country 
that at all resembles it. On the other hand there is a moulding on its 
base, which, if correctly drawn, would appear to be of Boman origin ; 
and there is a look about the lions that would lead us to suspect they 
were 'carved under Greek influence; after the age of Alexander at 

The interest consists in its being almost the only perfect survivor 
of a class of monuments at one time probably very common ; but 
which we are led to believe from the style of ornamentation were 
generally in brick. It is also suggestive from its close resemblance to 
the Buddhist topes in Afghanistan and India ; and lastly, were I asked 
to point out the building in the old world which most resembled the 
stele which Herod erected over the Tombs of the Kings at Jerusalem, 
in expiation of his desecration of their sanctity,' this is the monument 
to which I should unhesitatingly refer. 

* Joseplius, Ant xvL 7, § 1. 

VOL. J. 

Wot View of thF Acrofwlii rmlarvd. Fma Wordxvotlh'x ' Atheiii.' 



Uiitorieal notice — Fclaegic art — Tumb of Atreiu — Other renuias — Hellenic 
Greece — Histoij of the orders — Uuric onler — The Purtlienon — Ionic order — 

Corintliion order — Caryatides — Forroa of temple* — Hodc of liglitiog — Uimi- 
dpal architecture — TbeatrcB. 


AtridE >t UjcrqE, t^nn. . . ilt. 1301 lo UIU ' BiUlc of Salunis 

Bgtnn of tha HencUdit (a Fcli^ooiHK . . llOi 'IVniaU AEriEntdin. CHiiiiKntf 
^— ^ I tcinplf . , - . . . . . 

(Xjupiiila ixmrnnK* )J< , CInwnatAtlKna. TfmplcorDKKi 

CrpadMa at Cortnth— Building of loople ] Pnicin at AHinn. ParlhnuD Snli 

M OsriDib, rrgm Us to Eai TnnpleoT JupltrtitOlTiiiptaBnMi 

Baltma (modad, and lint lanpls loiii- Propyls at Alhrn built frcnn . . 

moHcd eu ' Srilniv dntrojnl bj' Canhagliilaiia. 

Aantatnij gt £giBit— BoUdlog oT lanple Rmblbeinm at Atbnu HnMird . 

■> £^na, treat IM Is 4M I Moniuui'nt of I.jslcnW* at AUmh 

BMlaorUaratlion 4»D , IXUb of Akiuidir tlw Oi«t . 

Tul within a vory recent period the b istorics of G rcece and Rome have 
t)een ooiuddered aa the ancient historice uf the world ; and even now, 
in onr nmveraitieB and pnblic echoola, it is scarcely acknowledged that 
a more ancient record has been read on the monumouta of l^gypt, and 
dog oot of the bowels of the earth in Awyriu. 

Bk. hi. Ch. I. HISTORICAL NOTICE. 21 1 

It is nevertheless true that the decipherment of the hieroglyphics 
on the one hand, and the reading of the arrow-headed characters on the 
other, have disclosed to us two forms of civilization anterior to that 
which reappeared in Greece in the 8th century before Christ. Based 
on those that preceded it, the Hellenic form developed itself there with 
a degree of perfection never before seen, nor has it, in its own peculiar 
department, ever been since surpassed. 

These discoveries have been of the utmost importance, not only in 
correcting our hitherto narrow views of ancient history, but in assist- 
ing to explain much that was obscure, or utterly unintelligible, in those 
histories with which we were more immediately &tmiliar. VV^e now, for 
the first time, comprehend whence the Greeks obtained many of their 
arts and much of their civilization, and to what extent the character of 
these was affected by the sources jfrom which they were derived. 

Having already described the artistic forms of I^ypt and Assyria, 
it is not difiScult to discover the origin of almost every idea, and of 
every architectural feature, that was afterwards found in Greece. 
But even with this assistance we should not be able to imderstand the 
phenomena which Greek art presents to us, were it not that the monu- 
ments reveal to us the existence of two distinct and separate races 
existing contemporaneously in Greece. If the Greeks were as purely 
Aryan as their langiiage would lead us to believe, all our ethnographic 
theories are at fault. But this is precisely one of those cases where 
archaK)logy steps in to supplement what philology tells us, and to 
elucidate what that science fails to reveal. That the language of the 
Greeks, with the smallest possible admixture from other sources, is pure 
Aryan no one will dispute ; but their arts, their religion, and frequently 
their institutions, tend to ascribe to them an altogether diflferent origin. 
Fortunately the ruins at Mycenaj and Orchomenos are sufficient to aflford 
us a key to the mystery. From them wo leam that at the time of the war 
of Troy a people were supreme in Greece who were not Hellens, but who 
were closely allied to the Etruscans and other tomb-building, art-loving 
people. Whether they were purely Turanian, or merely ultra-Celtic, 
may be questioned ; but one thing seems clear, that this people were 
then known to the ancients under the name of Pelasgi, and it is their 
presence in Greece, mixed up with the purely Dorian races, which 
explains what would otherwise be unintelligible in Grecian civilization. 

Except from our knowledge of the existence of a strong infusion of 
Turanian blood into the veins of the Grecian people, it would be impos- 
sible to understand how a people so purely Aryan in appearance came 
to adopt a religion so essentially Anthropic and Ancestral. Their belief 
in oracles, their worship of trees, and many minor peculiarities were 
altogether abhoiTent to the Aryan mind. 

The existence of these two antagonistic elements satisfectorily ex- 
plains how it was that while art was unknown in the purely Dorian city 

p 2 



Part I 

of Sparta, it flourished eo exuberantly in tlie Felasgic city of Atbens ; 
Why tho Uoriane burrowed tbeir arcUtcctuial order &om Egypt, and 
hardly changed its form during tho long period tlicy employed it ; and 
how it came to pass that the 1'oi'sianB brought theirs into Greece and 
modified it so essentially that wo hardly recognise tho original in its 
altered and more perfect form. It explains, too, how the different states 
of Greece were artistic or matter-of fact in the exact prc^rtioii in 
which either of the two elements predominated in the people. 

Thus the poetry of Arcadia was unknown in the neighbouring etata 
of Sparta ; but the Doric race there remained true to their institutioiiB, 
and spread their colonies and their power further than any other of the 
little principulitius of Greece. Tho institutions of Lyciirgus could 
never have been maintained in Athens ; but, on the other band, the 
l^rthenon was as impossiblo in tho Lacedemonian state. Even in Athena 
art would not havo been the wonder that it became without that happy 
admixture of tho two raeea which then [trovailed, mingling tho common 
sense of the one witb the artistic feeling of the other, which tended to 
produce tho most brilljuut intellectual development which has yet 
dazzled the world with its splendour. 

The contemporary presence of these two races perhaps also explains 
how Greek civilization, though so wonderfully brilliant, passed so 
quickly away. Had cither race been pure, the Dorian institutions 
might have lasted as long as the village- systems of India or the arts 
of Egjpt or China ; but where two dissiniilar races mix, the tendency 
is inevitably to revert to tho type of one, and, though the intermixture 
may produce a stock more brilliant than either parent, tho type is lees 
permanent and soon passes away. So soon was it the case, in this in- 
stance, that the whole of tho great history of Greece may be said to be 
comprcbended in tho period ranging between tho battle of I^farathoa 
(b. c. 490) and the peace concluded with Philip of Maccdon by the Athe- 
nians (n. c, 340) : so that the mn of a man who was bom before the 
first event may have been a party to the second. All those wonders of 
patriotism, of poetry, and art, for wliicli Greece was £imous, crowded into 
ihe short space of a century and a half, is a phenomenon the like of 
which the world has not seen before, and is not likely to witness again. 

Pelasgic Art.' 
As might be expected, from the length of time that has elapsed 

' Wtitere who derive their knowleilgo 
«rf' Grprian art from booku onlj, fire ex* 
iniligMuit when nny anihaologiet 
o suggest that ho knowa Borae- 
tliin^ of tho PelB^^, or of their affluitieB. 
Thoii' leugiiAj,* haH entirely perislied; and 
a nocounla are no conflieting and 

u the 

subject can be obtained fnHn them. It is 
not therefore to be wondered at that antho- 
riticifl should hitherto liavo differed so much 
regarding tUcin. The ttatimony of tlieir 
works is, however, so clear utkI distinct, 
that the book-worms would do well to 
keep thrir tempers till at Icoat thej have 
masteretl, aud can refute it. 

Bk. Ill, Ch. I. 



since the Fclasgio races mlod in Greece, and owing to the numerous 
changes that have taken place in that countiy since their day, their 
architectural remains arc few, and comparatively insignificant. It has 
thna come to pass that, were it not for their tombs, their city walls, 
and their works of civil engineering, sach as bridges and tunnels— in 
which they were pre-eminent — we should hardly now possess any mate- 
rial remains to prove their existence, or mark the degree of civilization 
to which they had reached. 

The moat remarkable of these remains are the tombs of the kings of 
Mycone, a city which in Homeric times had a fair title to be considered 
the capital of Greece, or at all events to bo considered one of the most 
important of her cities. The Dorians described these as troasuricH, as 
they looked upon such haUs as far more than sufficient for the narrow 
dwelling of the dead, llie most pei'fcct and tho largest of them now 
existing is known as the treasurj- or tomb of Atreus at Mycenffi, shown 
in plan and Bection in the annexed woodcut. The principal chamber is 

48 ft. 6 in. in diameter, and is, or was when perfect, of tho shape of & 
regular equilateral pointed arch, a form well adapted to the mode of 
construction, which is that of horizontal layers of stones, projecting the 
one beyond the other, till one small stone closed the whole, and made 
the vault complete. 

As will bo explained further on, this was the form of dome adopted 
by tho Jaina architects in India. It prevailed also in Italy and Asia 
Minor wherever a I'elasgic race is traced, down to the time when the 
pointed form again came into use in tho middle ages, though it was 
not then used as a horizontal, but as a radiating arch. 

On one side of this hall is a chamber cut in the rock, tho true 
sepulchre apparently, and externally is a long passage leading to a 
doorway, which, judging &om the fiagments that remain (woodcut No. 
117), must have been of a purely Asiatic form of art, and very unlike 
anything found subsequent to this period in Greece. 


P4KT I, 


To all appearance the dome was lined internally with plates of brass 
)r bronze, eome nnila of which metals are now found there; and the holes 
in which the nails were inserted are still to be seen all over the place. 
Another of these tombs, erected 
hy Minyos at Orcbomenos, de- 
scribed by Fausanias as one of 
the wonders of Greece, seems 
from the remains still existing 
to have been at least 20 ft 
wider than this one, and pio- 
portionably lai^r in eveiy 
respect. All these were co- 
vered with earth, and many 
are now probably hidden whidi 
a diligent search might re- 
veal. It is hardly, however, 
to be hoped that an nnrifled 
tomb may be discovered in 
Greece, though numerotis ex- 
amples are found in Etmria. 
The very name of treaenry 
must have excited the cupi- 
dity of the Greeks ; and as 
their real destination was for- 
gotten, no lingering respect for 
the dead could have restrained 
the band of the spoiler. 
As domes constructed on the horizontal principle, these two are the 
largest of which we have any knowledge, though there does not appear 
to be any reasonable limit to the extent to which such a form of 
building might be carried. When backed by earth, as those were, it is 
evident, from the mode of construction, that they cannot be destroyed 
by any equable pressure exerted from the exterior. 

The only danger to be feared is, what is technically called a rising 
of the haunches ; and to avoid this it might bo necessary, where Urge 
domes were attempted, to adopt a form more nearly conical than that 
used at Hycene. This might be a less pleasing architectural feature, 
but it is constructively a better one than the form of the radiating 
domes we generally employ. 

It is certainly to be regretted tltat more of the decorative featmes 
of this early style have not been discovered. They differ so entirely 
frooL anything else in Greece, and are so purely Asiatic in form, that it 
woold be exceedingly interesting to be able to restore a complete deoo- 

' Poumnjaa, tx. 38. 

bk. m. ch. I. 



ration of any sort. In all the parts Uthorto brought to light, on Ionic- 
like scroll is repeated in every part and over every detail, rather 
rudely executed, but probably originally heightened by colour. Its 
counterparts are found in Awyria and at Persepolia, but nowhere else 
in Greece.' 

The Pelaegic races soon learnt to adopt for their doorways the more 
pleasing ciirvilinear form, with which they were already familiar from 
their interiors. The annexed illus- 
tration (woodcut No, 118) from a 
gateway at Thoricus, in Attica, 
serves to show ite simplest and 
earliest form ; and the illustration 
(woodcut No. 121) from Assos, in 
Asia Uinor, of a far more modem 
date, shows the most complicated 
form it took in ancient times. In 
this last instance it is merely a 
discharging arch, and so little fitted '' 

for the purpose te which it is applied, that we can only suppose that 
its adoption arose from a strong predilection for this shape. 

Another illustration of Pelasgic masonry is found at Delos (wood- 
cut No. 119), consistii^ of a roof formed by two arch stones, at a certain 
angle to one another, 
similar to the plan 
adopted in Egypt, and 
is further interesting as 
being associated with 
capitals of pillars formed 
of the front pnrt of 
bulls, as in Assyria, 
pointing again to the ' 
intimate connexion that 
existed between Greece 
and Asia at this early 
period of the former's 

In all these instances 
it does not seem to have been so much want of knowledge that led 
these early builders to adopt the horizontal in preference to the 
radiating principle, as a conviction of its greater durability, as well, 
perhaps, as a certain predilection for an ancient mode. 

■ The Bsme sccoll ei[sta itt New Grange in Irelontl, in Ihe iaUail ofGozom 
Ualta, and generally wherever chmnbeml tumuli are TounJ. 


In tbo Gonstniction of their walls thoy adhered, as a mere matter of 
taste, to forms which they muet have known to be inferior to others. 
In the example, for instance, of a 
wall in the Peloponnesus (wood- 
cut No. 120), we find the poly- 
gonal masonry of an earlier age 
actually placed upon as perfect 
a specimen, bnilt in regular 
courses, or what is technically 
■ caDed a*hlar work, as any to bo 

^_ _ I J ^ I found in Greece ; and on the 

■ ix'"»c — other side of the gateway at 
mDi™ef..VoT4ge j^^^ (woodcut No. 121) there 
existe a semicircular arch, shown 
l^ the dotted lines, which is constructed horizontally, and could only 
have been copied from a radiating arch. 

Their city walls are chiefly remarkable for the size of the blocks of 
stone OBod, and for the beauty with which their irregular jointe and 
courses are fitted into 
one another. Like moat 
fortificationR, they are 
generally devoid of or- 
nament, the only archi- 
tectural features being 
the openings. These ar« 
interesting, as showing 

■ the steps by which a 
peculiar form of ma- 

'. Bonry was perfected, 

■ and which, in after ages, 
led to important archi- 
tectural roeulte. 

One of the meet 
primitive of these buildings is a nameless ruin existing near Mis- 
BoIoDghi (woodcut No. 122). In it the sides of the opening are 
staiigbt for the whole height, and, though making a very stable 
fiirm of opening, it is one to which it is extremely difBcult to fit 
doora, or to close by any known means. It was this difficulty that led 
to the next expedient adopted of inserting a lintel at a certain height, 
and making the jambs more perpendicular below, and more sloping 
above. This method is already exemplified in the tomb of Atreus 
(woodont No. 116), and in the gato of the Lions at Mycenee (woodcut 
No. 123) ; but it is by no means clear that the pcdimenta were always 
filled up with sculpture, as in this instance, ur left open. In tho 
mllB of a town they were probably always closed, but left op^i in a 

Qti£nj at Aho«. I 

Bk. III. Cii. I. PELASGIC ART. 217 

chamber. In the gato at Mycenie the two lions stand against an altar,' 
shaped like a pillar of a form found only in Lycia, in which the round 
ends of tho timbers of the roof are shown as if projecting into the frieze. 

These are slight remains, it must be confessed, from which to 
reoonstruot an art which had so much influence on the ciTiIization of 
Greece ; but they are sufficient for the ardiKologist, as the existence 
<^ a few fossil fragments of the bones of an elephant or a tortoise 
BufBce to prove the pre-existence of those animals wherever they have 
been found, and enables the paleontolc^ist to reason upon them with 
ahnoet as much certainty as if he saw them in a menagerie. Nor is it 
difficult to see why the remnants are so few. When Homer deecribes 
the imaginary dwelling of Alcinous — which he meant to be typical of 
a perfect palace in his day — he does not speak of its construction or 
solidity, nor tell us how ^mmetrically it was arranged ; but he is 
lavish of his praise of its brazen walls, ite golden doors with their 
silver posts and lintels — ^just as tho writers of the Books of Kings and 
Chronicles praise the contemporary temple or palace of Solomon for 
similar metallic splendour. 

The palace of Menelaus is described by the same author as full 
of brass and gold, silver and ivory. It was resplendent as tho sun and 
moon, and appeared to the eye of Tolemachus like tho mansion of 
Jupiter himself. 

No temples are mentioned by Homer, nor by any early writer; but 
the funeral rites celebrated in honour of Fatroclus, as described in tho 
xxiiird book of the Iliad, and tho mounds still existing on the plains 

■ It IB to bo regretted that no cast of 
these, the oldest snilptarcB of their clan 
in exiBtenco, lias reached this countiy. 
One is said (o exiet tX Berlin, but it is 
science. The drawicigs 

liithcrto mads of them are so inoiact tliat 
it 19 jmponiblo to reason on them, vhilat 
OS tjpea of B Btylo the; are among the most 
interceting known to exist any where. 


of Troy testify to the character of the people whose mannerB and 
customs he was describing, and would alone be sufficient to convince ns 
that, except in their tombs, we should find little to commemorate their 
previous existence. 

The subject is interesting, and deserves &r more attention than has 
hitherto been bestowed upon it, and more space than can be devoted 
to it here. Not only is this art the art of people who warred before 
Troy, but our knowledge of it reveals to us a secret which otherwise 
might for ever have remained a mystery. The religion of the Homeric 
poem is essentially Anthropic and Ancestral — in other words, of 
Turanian origin, with hardly a trace of Aryan feeling running through 
it. When we know that the same was the case with the arts of those 
days, we feel that it could not well be otherwise, but what most excites 
our wonder is the power of the poet, whose song describing the manners 
and feelings of an extinct race was so beautiful as to cause its adoption 
as a gospel by a people of another race, tincturing their religion to the 
latest hour of their existence. 

We have very little means of knowing how long this style of art 
lasted in Greece. The treasury built by Myron king of Sicyon at 
Olympia about 650 b. c. seems to have been of this style in so &r as 
we can judge of it by the description of Pausanias.* It consisted of 
two chambers, one ornamented in the Doric, one in the Ionic style, not 
apparently with pillars but with that kind of decoration which appears 
at that period to have been recognized as peculiar to each. But the 
entire decorations seem to have been of brass, the weight of metal em 
ployed being recorded in an inscription on the building. The earliest 
example of a Doric temple that we know of — that of Corinth — would 
appear to belong to very nearly the same age, so that the 7th century 
B. a may probably be taken as the period when the old Turanian form 
of Pelasgic art gave way before the sterner and more perfect creations 
of a purer Hellenic design. Perhaps it might be more correct to say 
that the Hellenic history of Greece commenced with the Olympiads 
(b. a 776), but before that kingdom bloomed into perfection an older 
civilization had passed away, leaving little beyond a few tombs and 
works of public utility as records of its prior existence. It left^ how- 
ever, an undying influence which can be traced through every subse- 
quent stage of Grecian history, which gave form to that wond^rftd 
artistic development of art, the principal if not the only cause ot the 
unrivalled degree of perfection to which it subsequently attained. 

' Pausanias, vi. 19. 



The culminating period of the Felasgic civilization of Greece Tras at 
the time of the war with Troy — the last great military event of that 
age, and the one which seenie to have closed the long and intimate 
connexion of the Greek Pelagians with their cognate races in Asia. 

Sixty years later the irruption of the Thessalians, and twenty years 
after that event the return of the Horacleidee, closed in a political 
sense that chapter in history, and gave rise to what may be styled the 
Hellenic civilization, which proved the great and true glory of Greece. 

Four centuries, however, elapsed, which may appropriately be 
called the dark ages of Greece, before the new seed bore fruit, at least, 
in so far as art is concerned. These ages produced, it is true, the laws 
of Lycui^s, a characteristic effort of a truly Aryan race, conferring as 
they did on the people who made them tliat power of self-government, 
and capacity for republican institutions, which gave them such stabi- 
lity at home and so much power abroad, but which were as inimical 
to the softer glories of the fine arts in Sparta as they have proved 

When, after this long night, architectural art reappeared, it waa at 
Corinth, under the Cypselidse, a race of strongly marked Asiatic ten- 
dencies ; but it had in the mean time undergone so great a transforma- 
tion as to w^ell nigh bewilder us. On its reappearance it was no longer 
chatacterised by the el^ant and ornate art of Mycenee, and the cognate 


fbrtiLB of Asiatic growth, btit had asBiiined the rude, bold proportionB of 
t^yptian art, and with almost more than Egyptian 

DoKic Temples im Greece. 

Tho age of the Doric t«mplc at Corinth is not, it is true, eatis&c- 
torily detennined ; but tho balance of evidence would lead us to 
believe that it belongs to tho age of Cj-psehis, or about 650 B.C. The 
pillars are less than four diameters in height, and the architrave — the 
only part of (ho superstructure that now rcmainB— is proportionately 
heavy. It is, indeed, one of the most massive specimens of architec- 
ture existing, moro so than even its rock-cut prototype at Beni-Hassan,' 
from which it is most indubitably copied. As a work of art, it fails 
from excess of strength, a feult common to most of tho efforts of a mdo 
people, ignorant of their own resources, and striving, by the expres- 
sion of physical strength alone, to obtain all tho objects of their art. 

Keit in ago to this is tho little temple at .^gina.' Its date, too, is 
unknown, though, judging from the character of its sculpture, it pro- 
bably belongs to tho middle of the sixth century before Christ. 

We know that Athens had a great temple on tho Acropolis, con- 
temporary with these, and tho frusta of its columns still remain, which, 
after its destruction by the Persians, were built into the walls of the 
citadeL It is more than probable that all the principal citiee of 
Greece had temples commensurate with their dignity before the Per- 
sian war. Many of those were destroyed during that struggle ; but it 
also happened then, as in Franco and England in the 12tb and 13th 
centuries, that the old temples were thought unworthy of the national 
greatness, and of that feeling of exaltation arising from the snoccesftil 
result of the greatest of their wars, so that almost all those which 

■ If the ezunplCB at Bem-HnHHan and 
slMivheTe are not considered sufficient <o 
■Sttle the qoeetiun, it will be diflirqlt to 
nfnae the evidence of tliis one (woolcut 
Hix 125) taken IVom the sautbem tein|>Ie 
at KarnM, built in the age of ThothmrmiK 
IlL Mid AmenvbiB III- : mj 1600 years 
Mbre Chiiit, ts 1000 years bcfnro the 
Mlllial QiedAn eztunple known. In this 
Initanee tfae abaciu it separalGd from tlie 
duA ; fliere is a bold ocliiDiia snd a beaded 
M"H"g : in &ct all the membera of tbe 
OkoIui (ader, only wanting tho elegance 
wbidi the Gieeki added to it. 

In the tnemoit bf Hr. Falkencr ('Mu- 
Kom of Obasical Antiquities,' vol. i. p. 
87), from which the woodcut is borrowed, 
91 plotc^Doric colamug are ennmcraled as 
Mi szistuig in eight difiereot buildings. 
' n tha Third Cataract to Lower 

lU. Ca|>lul LnTrmple it 

Bk. III. ClL II. 



remained wei*o pulled down or rebuilt. The consequence is, that 
nearly all the great temples now found in Greece were built in the 
40 or 50 years which succeeded the defeat of the Persians at Salamis 
and Flatsea. 


Temple at iEgina restored. Ko scale. 

The oldest temple of this class is that best known as the Theseium, 
or temple of Theseus, at Athens, though it is nearly certain that it 
ought more properly to bo considered the temple of the god Mars. It 
constitutes a link between the archaic and the perfect age of Grecian 
art, more perfect than the temple at -^gina or any that preceded it, 
but falling short of the perfection of the Parthenon, its near neighbour 
both in locality and date. 

Of all the great temples, the best and most celebrated is the Par- 
thenon, the only octastyle Doric temple in Greece, and in its own class 
undoubtedly the most beautiful building in the world. It is true it 
has neither the dimensions nor the wondrous expression of power and 
eternity inherent in Egyptian temples, nor has it the variety and 
l>oetry of the Gothic cathedral ; but for intellectual beauty, for perfec- 
tion of proportion, for beauty of detail, and for the exquisite perception 
uf the highest and most recondite principles of art ever applied to 
architecture, it stands utterly and entirely alone and unrivalled — the 
glory of Greece, and the shame of the rest of the world. 

Next in size and in beauty to this was the great hexastyle temple 
of Jupiter at Ol^Tupia, finished two years later than the Parthenon. 
Its dimensions were nearly the same, but, having only six pillars in 
front instead of eight, as in the Parthenon, the proportions were 
different, this temple being 95 ft, by 230, the Parthenon 101 ft. 
by 227. 

To the same ago belongs the exquisite little temple of Apollo 
Epicurius at Bassas (47 ft. by 125), the temple of Minerva at Sunium, 


the greater temple at Bbamnns, the Propyhea at Athens, and indeed 
all that is greatest and most beautiful in the architecture of Greece. 
The temple of Ceres at £leusis also was founded and designed at this 
period, but its execution belongs to a later date. 

Doric Temples in Sicily. 

Owing, probably, to some local peculiarity, which we have not 
now the means of explaining, the Dorian colonies of Sicily and Magna 
Grsecia seem to have possessed, in the days of their prosperity, a 
greater number of temples, and certainly retain the traces of many 
more, than were or are to be found in any of the great cities of the 
mother country. The one city of Selinus alone possesses six in two 
groups, three in the citadel, and three in the city. Of these the oldest 
is the central one of the first-named group. Its sculptures, first dis- 
covered by Messrs. Angel and Harris, indicate an age only slightly sub- 
sequent to the foundation of the colony, B.C. 636, and therefore probably 
nearly contemporary with the example above mentioned at Corinth. 
The most modem is the great octastyle temple, which seems to have 
been left unfinished at the time of the destruction of the city by the 
Carthaginians, b.c. 410. The remaining four range between these 
dates, and therefore form a tolerably perfect chronometric series at that 
time when the arts of Greece itself fail us. The inferiority, however, 
of provincial art, as compared with that of Greece itself, prevents us 
from applying such a test with too much confidence to the real history of 
the art, though it is undoubtedly valuable as a secondary illustration. 

At Agrigentum there are three Doric temples, two small hexastyles, 
whose age may be about 500 to 480 e.g., and one great exceptional 
example, the largest of all the Grecian temples of the age, being 
360 ft. long by 173 broad. These gigantic dimensions, however, were 
beyond the legitimate powers or proportions of the order employed ; 
and the architect was consequently forced to adopt expedients which 
must always have rendered it a clumsy though a magnificent building. 
Its date is perfectly known, as it was commenced by Theron, B.a 480, 
and left unfinished seventy -five years afterwards, when the city was 
destroyed by the Carthaginians. 

At Syracuse there still exist the ruins of a very beautiful temple of 
this age ; and at Egesta are remains of another in a much more perfect 

Fsastum, in Magna Gra3cia, boasts of the most magnificent group of 
tranples after that at Agrigentum. One is a very beautiful hexastyle, 
belonging probably to the middle of the fifth century ac, built in a 
bold and very pure style of Doric architecture, and still retains the 
greater part of its internal columnar arrangement. 

Tfa6 other two are more modem, and are far less pure both in plan 

Bk. UI. Ch. U. ionic temples. 223 

and in detail, one having nine oolnmns at each end, the central pillars 
of which are meant to correspond with an internal range of pillars, 
supporting the ridge of the roo£ The other, though of a regular 
form, is so modified by local peculiarities, so corrupt, in fiu3t, as 
hardly to deserve being ranked with the beautiful order which it 
most resembles. 

Ionic Temples. 

We have even fewer materials for the history of the Ionic order in 
Greece than we have for that of the Doric. The recent discoveries 
in Assyria have proved, beyond a doubt, that the Ionic was even more 
essentially an introduction from Asia than the Doric was from Egypt : 
the only question is, when it was brought into Greece. My own im- 
pression is, that it existed there in one form or another from the 
earliest ages, but owing to its slenderer proportions, and the greater 
quantity of wood used in its construction, the examples may have 
perished, so that nothing is now known to exist which can lay claim 
to even so great an antiquity as the Persian war. 

The oldest example, probably, was the temple on the Ilissus, now 
destroyed, dating from about 484 b.c. ; next to this is the little gem 
of a temple dedicated to Nik^ Apteros, or the Wingless Victory, built 
about 15 years later, in front of the Propylaaa at Athens. The last 
and most perfect of all the examples of this order is the Erechtheium, 
on the Acropolis : its date is apparently about 420 B.C., the great epoch 
of Athenian art. Nowhere did the exquisite taste and skill of the 
Athenians show themselves to greater advantage than here ; for though 
every detail of the order may be traced back to Nineveh or Persepolis, 
all are so purified, so imbued with purely Grecian taste and feeling, 
that they have become essential parts of a far more beautiful order 
than ever existed in the land in which they had their origin. 

1 he largest, and perhaps the finest, of Grecian Ionic temples, was 
that built about a century afterwards, at Tegea, in Arcadia — a regular 
peripteral temple, of considerable dimensions, but the existence of 
which is now known only from the description of Pausanias.* 

As in the case, however, of the Doric order, it is not in Greece 
itself that we find either the greatest number of Ionic temples, or 
those most remarkable for size, but in the colonies in Asia Minor, 
and more especially in Ionia, whence the order most properly takes 
its name. 

That an Ionic order existed in Asia Minor before the Persian 
wars is quite certain, but all examples perished in that memorable 
struggle ; and when it subsequently reappeared, the order had lost 

^ Pausanias, viii. 45. 


much of its purely Asiatic character, and assumed certain fonns and 
tendencies borrowed from the simpler and purer Doric style. 

If any temple in the Asiatic Greek colonies escaped destruction in 
the I'ersian wars, it was that of Juno at Samos. It is said to havo 
been built by Polycrates, and appears to have been of the Doric order. 
The ruins now found there ai-o of the Ionic order, 346 ft by 190 ft., 
and must have succeeded the first mentioned. The apparent arohaiRma 
in the form of the bases, <&c., which have misled antiquarians, are 
merely Eastern forms retained in spite of Grecian influence. 

More remarkable even than this was the celebrated temple of 
Diana at Ephesus, 425 ft long by 220 ft. wide, consequently covering 
93,500 ft, an area exceeding that of any ancient temple known out of 
Egypt, or of any mediaBval cathedral, except Milan, which is slightly 
larger. Even its site, however, is now a matter of dispute. 

Besides these, there was a splendid docastyle temple, dedicated to 
Apollo Did^Tuaeus, at Miletus, 156 ft wide by 295 ft. in length; an 
octastyle at Sardis, 261 ft by 144 ft ; an exquisitely beautiful, though 
small hexastyle, at Priene, 122 ft by 64 ft; and another at Teoe, 
besides smaller examples elsewhere, many of which have no doubt 

Corinthian Temples. 

The Corinthian order is as essentially borrowed from the bell- 
shaped capitals of Egypt, as the Doric is from their oldest pillars. 
Like everything they touched, the Greeks soon rendered it their own, 
by the freedom and elegance with which they treated it The acanthus- 
leaf with which they adorned it is essentially Grecian, and we must 
suppose that it had been used by them as an ornament, either in their 
metal or wood work, long before they adopted it in stone as an archi- 
tectural feature. 

As in everything else, however, the Greeks could not help betray- 
ing in this also the Asiatic origin of their art, and the Egyptian order 
with them was soon wedded to the Ionic, whose volutes became an 
essential, though subdued part of this order. It is in feet a composite 
order, made up of the bell-shaped capitals of the Egyptians and the spiral 
of the Assyrians, and adopted by the Greeks at a time when national 
distinctions were rapidly disappearing, and when true and severer 
art was giving place to love of variety. At that time also mere orna- 
ment and carving were supplanting the purer class of form and the 
higher aspirations of sculpture with which the Greeks ornamented 
their temples in their best days. 

In Greece the order does not appear to have been introduced, or at 
least generally used, before the age of Alexander the Great; the 
oldest authentic example, and also one of the most beautiful, being the 
Choragic Monument of Lysicrates (b.c. 335), which, notwithstanding 

bk. irr. Ch. ir. corinthian temples. 22!; 

the smallnesB of its dimenBiona, is one of the most beautiful works of 
art of the merely ornamental claaa to be found in any part of the 
world. A simpler example, but by no means eo beautiful, is that of 
the small porticos of the building commonly but improperly called the 
Tower of the Winds at Athens. The largest example in Greece of the 
Corinthian order is the temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens. This, 
however, may almost be called a Koman building, though on Grecian 
soil— having been commenced in its present form under Antiochus 
Epiphanes, in the 2nd century B.C., by the Koman architect Cossntius, 
and only finished by Hadrian, to whom probably we may ascribe the 
greatest part of what now remains. Its dimensions are 171 ft. by 354 
ft., or nearly those of the interior of the Great Hypostyle Hall at 
Kamac ; and from the number of ite columns, their size and their 
beauty, it must have been when complete the most beautiful Corinthian 
temple of the ancient world. 

Judging, however, from some fragmouts found among the lonio 
temples of Asia Minor, it appears that the Corinthian order was 
introduced there before we find any trace of it in Greece Proper. 
Indeed, a priori we might expect that its introduction into Greece 
was a part of that reaction which the elegant and luxurious Asiatics 
exercised on the severer and 
more manly inhabitants of 
European Greece,and which 
was in fact the main cause 
of their subjection, first to 
the Macedonians, and finally 
beneath the iron yoke of 
Rome. As used by the 
Asiatics, it seems t« have 

arisen from the introduction r ntui 

of the bell-shaped capital of 
the Egj-ptians, to which they spjilied the acanthus- leaf, sometimes in 
conjunction with the honeysuckle ornament of the time, as in wood- 
cut Ko. 127, and on other and later occasions together with the 
volutes of the same order, the latter combination being the one which 
ultimately prevailed, and became the typical form of the Corinthian 

DiUBNsioNs OF Greek Temples. 

Although differing so essentially in plan, the general dimensions of 
the lar^r temples of the Greeks were very similar to those of the 
mediaeval cathedrals, and although they never reached the altitndo of 
their modem rivals, their cubic dimensions were probably in about 
the same ratio of proportion. 

VOL, 1. VI 


The following table gives tlie approiutnate dimensions, rejecting 
fractions, of the 8 largest and best known examples ; — 

Diana, at EphcBiu 425 long 220 wide = 93.500 Teet 

JUQO, at Sttinos 34C ,. 190 ,. = 65,740 .. 

Jupiter, at Agrigentum... 360 173 ,, = 62,280 ,, 

Apollo, nt Branchidie 362 168 ,, = 60.RI6 ., 

Jnpiter, at Athens 354 ., 171 . , = 60,534 .. 

Picljmaiiia, al MilttuB ... 295 , I.i6 ,. = 43,020 ,, 

Cybele, ftt ftirclis 261 ,. U4 ,, = 37.884 ,, 

Parthenon, at Athens 228 101 ,. = 23,028 ,, 

There may be some slight discrepancies in this table &om the 
figures quoted elsewhere, and incorrectness arising from such temples 
as those at Ephesns being measured on the lowest step, and ttie Par- 
thenon on the highest ; but it is sufficient for comparison, which is all 
that is attempted in its compilation. 

Dome Order.' 
The Doric was the order which the (Jreeks especially loved and 
cultivated so as to make it most exclusively their own; and, as used 


it u round in Orppco oi 
explMDing the origin of tlic etvle. Still 
it maj be worth while to try und make 
0)U n IJtlle clcerer, aa tlioae wlio are not 

The anneicd woodcut illastTsles a 

Kaat at thii dny. Oenerallj' a square pier 
nf brick-work it emplojred; niid then an 
abacus of wood or tiles is indispeiiHible to 
ilistribule the pressure uf a nnrrow beam 
over H wilier pier. When the pillar is 
made octugoiml this is even more necessiiry. 
Wliero a wooden post i» employed it ia 
always nf (he same thickncrs as tlic beum, 
and ia gcnemlly morticed into it; or a 
bracket may be employed, and is parti- . 
cularly advantageous when a jiini:tion 
takes plaee between two lengtlis of tlie 
erchitnive. But even then it is only of 
the nme thiekness as the beam. In (act 
there ia no difficulty in recognizing the i 

diffiTcnce between a carpentry and s 
inasotiry form. An abacus is aa absurd 
will) the forniter as it is indispensable with 
the latter ; and of eourac those who used 
squareil timbera for the roof wotild not 
employ unhewn trunks of trees for the 

On the arclittinvc beam rest the rafters, 
and on these the purlins — in India gs- 
ncrally 3 inc1:es square, and placed 1 foot 
or IS inches apart, uccording to the length of 
Uic tiles used. Sometimes onetliickuenof 
tiles is employed, and a layer of coDcrete 
aboTc ; sometimes two, Bometimca thne 
thicknesses of tiles, but the tiinbeT con- 


in the Parthenon, it certainly is as complete and an perfect an archi- 
tectural feature as any style can he. When first introduced i'rom 
Egypt, it, as before stated, partook of even more than Egyptian 

soliditj", hut hy degrees hecame attenuated to the weak and lean form 
of the Roman order of the same name. Woodcut No. 120 illustrates 
tho three stages of progress from the oldest example at Corinth to the 

a the » 

all cases. The i bjr the Romans, probably i 

. upon hoWf 
ia, tliftt an abacua Dover wna used, and 
never eould liave been su^^efited from 
B. tinibei poet or pillar. Timber fonna 
are ^ncntlly very enitilj traced, aa tfaojate 
in the roof, but Dot in the pillan ofDoric 

s BOBgeeted 
by the shoe, which in certain Bituations ia 
a neceEBoiy part of a wooden post : but 
the origin of thia feature is probably to 
be fouod in Aeeyria, Ibougli in a very dif- 
ferent fbrm to that of tho Soman order. 
Itsabeence in the Grecian Doric ia another 
argument in fitronr of the masoui; origin 

The bwe, which was afterward* applied | of the pillar in that order. 




Part I. 

order as used in the time of Philip at Delos, the intermediate being 
the culminating point in the ago of Pericles : the first is 4*47 diameters 
in height, the next 6'025, the last 7*015 ; and if the table were filled up 
with all the other examples, the gradual attenuation of the shaft would 
very nearly give the relative date of the example. This feet is in 
itself sufficient to refute the idea of the pillar being copied from a 
wooden post, as in that case it would have been slenderer at first, and 
would gradually have departed from the wooden form as the style 
advanced. This is the case in all primitive styles. With the Doric 
order the contrary is the case. The earlier the example the more 
unlike it is to any wooden original. As the masons advanced in skiU 
and power over their stone material, it came more and more to resemble 
posts or pillars of wood. The fact appears to be, that either in Egypt 
or in early Greece the pillar was originally a pier of brickwork, or of 
rubble masonry, 8upix>rting a wooden roof, of which the architraves, 
the triglyphs, and the various parts of the cornice, all bore traces down 
to the latest period. 

Even as ordinarily represented, or as copied in this country, there 
is a degree of solidity combined with elegance in this order, and an 
exquisite proportion of tlio parts to one another, and to the work they 
have to perform, that command the admiration of every person of taste ; 
but, as used in Greece, its beauty was veiy much enhanced by a 
number of refinements, whose existence was not suspected till lately, 
and even now cannot be detected but by the most practised eye. 

The columns were at fii'st assumed to be bounded by strait lines. 
It is now found that they have an entasi^i, or convex profile, in the Par- 
thenon to the extent of yj-^^ of the whole height, and are outlined by a 
very delicate hyperbolic curve ; it is true this can hardly be detected 
by the eye in ordinary positions, but the want of it gives that rigidity 
and poverty to the column which is observable in modem examples,' 

In like manner, the architrave in all temples was carried upwards, 
so as to form a very flat arch, just sufficient to correct the optical delu- 
sion arising from the interference of the sloping lines of the pediment. 
This, I believe, was common to all temples, but in the Parthenon the 
curve was applied to the sides also, though from what motive it is not 
so easy to detect. 

Another refinement was making all the columns slope slightly 
inwards, so as to give an idea of strength and support to the whole. 
Add to this, that all the curved lines used were either hyperbolas or 
parabolas. With one exception only, no circular line was employed, 
nor even an ellipse. Every part of the temple was also arranged with 


*■ Theee facts have all been fully elu- 
cidated by Mr. Penrose in his beautiful 
work containing the results of his re- 

searches on the Partlienon and other 
temples of Greece, published by the 
Dilettanti Society. 

Bk. 111. Ch. II. DORIC ORDER. 229 

the most unbounded care and accuracy, and every detail of the masonry 
was carried out with a precision and beauty of execution which is 
almost unrivalled, and it may be added that the material of the whole 
was the purest and best white marble. All these delicate adjustments, 
this exquisite finish and attention to even the smallest details, are 
well bestowed on a design in itself simple, beautiful, and appropriate. 
They combine to render this order, as found in the best Greek temples, 
as nearly faultless as any work of art can possibly be, and such as wo 
may dwell upon with the most unmixed and unvarying satisfaction. 

The system of definite proportion which the Greeks employed in 
the design of their temples, was another cause of the effect they pro- 
duce even on uneducated minds. It was not with them merely that 
the height was equal to the width, or the length about twice the 
breadth; but every part was proportioned to all those parts with 
which it was related, in some such ratio as 1 to 6, 2 to 7, 3 to 8, 4 to 9, 
or 5 to 10, &c. As the scheme advances these numbers become unde- 
sirably high. In this case they reverted to some such simple ratios as 
4 to 6, 5 to 6, 6 to 7, and so on. 

We do not yet quite understand the process of reasoning by which 
the Greeks arrived at the laws which guided their practice in this 
respect ; but they evidently attached the utmost importance to it, and 
when the ratio was determined upon, they set it out with such accu- 
racy, that even now the calcidated and the measured dimensions seldom 
vary beyond such minute fractions as can only be expressed in hun- 
dredths of an inch. 

Though the existence of such a system of ratios has long been 
suspected, it is only recently that any measurements of Greek temples 
have been made with sufficient accuracy to enable the matter to be pro- 
perly investigated and their existence proved.* 

The ratios are in some instances so recondite, and the correlation 
of the parts at first sight so apparently remote, that many would be 
inclined to believe they were more fanciful than real.* It would, how- 
ever, be as reasonable in a person with no ear, or no musical education, 
to object to the enjoyment of a complicated concerted piece of music 
experienced by those differently situated, or to declare that the pain 

* For measurementa wo depend on Pen- Egypt seem to have bad some distinct 
rose, * Principles of Athenian Architecture/ ideas of a system of definite proportions in 

&c., fol., and Cockerell, * The Temples of 
Eglna and BasssB,' Lond. 18(K). The de- 
tails of the systi'm were first publicly 
announced by Watkiss Lloyd, in a paper 
read to the Institute of British Architects 
in 18o9 ; afterwards in an appendix to 
Mr. Cockerell's work, und in several minor 
3 The pyramid-building kings of Ixiwer 

architectural building, and to have put it 
into practice in the pyramid; at least it 
has not yet been sought for in the other 
buildings of that age. 

At times I cannot help suspecting more 
affinity to have existed between the in- 
hubitantji of Lower £ and those of 
Greece than is at first sight apparent. 



luusiciauH ft-el from a false note wa« mere affectation. The eyes of the 
Greeks were as perffctly educated as our ears. They could appreciate 
harmonies wliich are lost in us, and were offended at false qu&ntitiee 
which our duller senses fail to perceive. But in spite of ouTBelves, ^we 
do feel the beauty of these harmonic relations, though we hardly know 
why ; and if educated to thorn, wo might acquire what might almost he 
considered aa a new sense. But be this as it may, there can be no 
doubt but that a great deal of the beauty which all feel in contemplat- 
ing the architectural prodnction« of the Greeks, arises from causes sudi 
as these, which we are only now l)eginning (o appreciate. 

To understand, however, the Uoric order, we must not regard it 
as a merely masonic fonn. Sculpture was always used, or int^^ndod to 
bo used, with it. The Metopes between the triglyphs, the pediments 
of the porticos, and the acroteria or iK-dcstals on the roof, are all 
unmeaning anil useless unless fllle<l or surmounted with sculptured 
figures. {Sculpture is, indeed, as essential a part of this order as the 
aeunthus-leaves and ornaments of the cornice are to the capitals and 
entablature of the Corintliiun order; and ivithout it, or without its 
place being supplied by jwinting, we are merely looking at the de&d 
skeleton, the mere framework of the order, without the flesh and blood 
that gave it life and purpose. 

It is when all these parts are combined togctlier, as in the portico 
of the Parthenon (woodcut 
No. 130), that we can un- 
derstand this order in all its 
IK-'rfection ; for though each 
jiart was beautiful in it»;lf. 
their full value can bo appre- 
ciateil only as porta of a 
gi-eat whole. 

Another essential part 
of the order, too often over- 

IM. Tin PalOiM.oli. Scaio 50 (1. 1» L in, looklfl, is tho COloUr, whlch 

was as integral a part of it 
as its fonn. '1111 verj' hitoly, it was denied that Greek temples were, 
or could be, painted i tho uninistakcable remains of colour, however, 
that have Ux'u discovereil in almost all teuiplcs, and the greater 
knowledge of the value and use of it which now prevails, have altered 
the public opinion very uiiieh on the matter, and most people admit 
that some colour was iiwd, though few are agreed as to the cxtcnl to 
which it was carried. 

It cannot now bo questioned that colour was used everywhere 
internally, and on every object. Externally too it is generally ad- 
mitted that the sculpture was painted and relieved by strongly 
coloured backgrounds ; the lacimaria, or recesses of the roo^ were a\BO 

Bk. III. Cu. II. IONIC ORDER. 231 

certainly painted ; and all the architectural mouldings, which at a later 
period were carved in relief, have been found to retain traces of their 
painted ornaments. 

It is disputed whether the echinus or carved moulding of the 
capital was so ornamented. There seems little doubt but that it was ; 
and that the walls of the cells were also coloured throughout and 
covered with paintings illustrative of the legends and attributes of 
the divinity to whom the temple was dedicated, or of the purposes 
for which it was erected. The plane face of the architrave was pro- 
bably left white, or merely ornamented with metal shields or inscrip- 
tions, and the shafts of the colimins appear also to have been left plain, 
or merely slightly stained to tone down the crudeness of the white 
marble. Generally speaking, all those parts which from their form 
or position were in any degree protected from the rain or atmospheric 
influences seem to have been coloured ; those particularly exposed, to 
have been left plain. To whatever extent, however, painting may have 
been carried, these coloured ornaments were as essential a part of the 
Doric order as the carved ornaments were of the Corinthian, and made 
it, when perfect, a richer and more ornamental, as it was a more solid 
and stable, order than the latter. The colour nowhere interfered with 
the beauty of it« forms, but gave it that richness and amount of orna- 
mentation which is indis^Kinsable in all except the most colossal build- 
ings, and a most valuable adjunct even to them. 

Ionic Order. 

The Ionic order, as we now find it, is not without some decided 
advantages over the Doric. It is more complete in itself and less 
dependent on sculpture. Its frieze was too small for much display of 
human life and action, and was probably usually ornamented with lines 
of animals ^ like the friezes at l*ersepolis. But the frieze of the little 
temple of Nik6 Apteros is biilliantly ornamented in the same style as 
those of the Doric order. It also happened that those details and orna- 
ments which were only painted in the Doric, were carved in the Ionic 
order, and remain therefore visible to the present day, which gives to 
this order a completeness in our eyes which the other cannot boast of. 
Add to this a certain degree of Asiatic elegance and grace, and the 
whole when put together makes up a singularly pleasing architectural 
object. But notwithstanding these advantages, the Doric order will 
probably always be admitted to be superior, as belonging to a higher 
class of art, and because all its forms and details are better and more 
adapted to their purpose than those of the Ionic. 

The principal characteristic of the Ionic order is the Pelasgic or 

It wa8 called Zoophonis (/i/e or Ji4jure bearer), 



Asiatic spiral, here called a volute, which, notwithstanding ite ele- 
gance, forma at best but an awkward capital. The Aasyrian honey- 
suckle below thiH, carved as it is with the exquisite feeling and taste 
which a Greek alone knew how to impart to such an object, forms as 
elf^nt an architectural detail as is anywhere to he found; and 
whether used an the necking of a column, or on the crowning mem- 
her of a cornice, or Tm 



i other parte of the order, is 
I evciy where the moat beau- 
tiful ornament connected 
dth it. Comparing this 
order with that at Per- 
Bcpolis (woodcut Ho. 86), 
the only truly Asiatic pro- 
totj^pe we have of it, we 
isee how much the Doric 
feeling of the Greeks had 
- done to sober it down, by 
I abbreviating the capital 
and omitting the greater 
part of the base. ITiis 
J process was cairied much 
[ further when the order 
I used in conjunction 
with the Doric, as in the 
I'ropyleKa, than when used 
by itself, as in the Erech- 
theium ; still in every case 
all the parts found in the 
Asiatic style are found in 
ihe Greek. The same form 
mid feelings pervade both ; 
and, except in beauty of 
execution and detail, it is 
not quite clear bow far 
derotEiTchifciuinaiAiii-TB. ovon tho Greek order is 

an improvement on the 
The Ferscpolitan buso is certainly tho moro beautiful 
of the two; so are many parts of the capita). The perfection of the 
whole, however, depends on the mode in which it is employed ; and 
it ia perfectly evident that the Persian order could not be combined 
with the Doric, nor applied with much propriety as an external order, 
iriiidi was the essential use of all the Gi'ccian forms of pillars. 

When used between antte or square piers, as seems usually to have 
been the case in Assyria, tbe two-fronted form of tho Ionic capital was 


UK. lU. Ch. II. 



appropriate and elegant ; but when it wae employed as in the Erech- 
theium as an angle column, it presented a difficulty which even Grecian 
skill and ingenuity could not quite conquer. When the Persians 
wanted the capital to face four ways they turned the aide outwards, 
as at Persepolis (woodcut No. 88), and put the volutes in the angles— 
which was an awkward mode of getting over the difBcultj-. 

The instance in which these difBculties have been most successfully 
met, is in the internal order at Bassai. 
There the three sides are equal, and are 
equally seen— the fourth ie attached to the 
wall — and the junction of the faces is 
formed with an el^;ancc that has never 
been surpassed. ] t has not the richness of 
the order of tho Erechtheium, but it excels 
it in elegance. Its widely spreading base 
still retains traces of the wooden origin of 
the order, and carries us back towards the 
times when a shoo was necessary to sup- 
lK>rt wooden posts on the floor of an Assy- 
rian hall. 

Notwithstanding theamount of carv'ing 
which the Ionic order displays, there can 
be little doubt of its having been also orna- 
mented with ci)lour to a considerable ex- 
tent, but probably in a ditfereut manner 
from tho Doric. My oivn impression is, 
that the carved parts were gilt, or picked 
out with gold, relieved by coloured grounds. 

varied according to the situation in which they were found. 
existing remains prove that colours were used in juKtapoaition, to 
relieve and heighten the architectural effect of the carved ornaments of 
this order. 

In tho Ionic temples at Athens the same exquisite masonry was 
used as in the t)orici the same mathematical precision and care is 
bestowed on the entasis of the colunms, the drawing of the volutes, and 
the execution of even the minutest details ; and much of its beauty and 
effect are uo doubt owing to this circumstance, which we miss so pain- 
fully in nearly all modern ocampleM. 


CoRiSTHiAs Order. 

As before mentioned, the Corinthian order was only introduced 
into Greece in the decline of art, and never rose during the purely 
Grecian ago to tho dignity of a temple order. It most pi'ubably, how- 
ever, was used in the more ornate specimens of domestic architecture. 



Past I. 

and in Bmiilk-r wurkit uf art, long bL'forc any of tlioue exampleti of it 
wore oxocwU'd which wc now find in (jrowit, 

nio most tjiHca! sjit-dineit wo now know ie that of the Churagic 
Monument of I.ysicratfa (woodcnt No. 134), which, notwithatandiug 

L aU its 

K be pei 

m txmti 


134. Ordrrof tbt Cbongic Uunummtor I.Tiicraln. 

all its el^;ance of detail and execution, can hardly- be prouoonced to 

perfect, the E^-ptian and Aeiatiu fcaturca being only very indif- 

ftraitly united to one another. I'he foliaged \KtTt in rich and full, but 

fluried up into ibo upper or Ionic iK>rtiuii, wliich is in cximpari- 

Uk. IlL Cu. II. 



Bon lean and poor; and though eeparately the two partu are irreproach- 
able, it was left to the Romans so to blend the two tt^ther as to make 
a perfectly satiefactory whole out of them. 

In thia example, as now exiating, the junction of the cohunn with 
the capital ia left a plain sinking, and bo it is generally copied in 
modem times ; but there can be little doubt that this was originally 
filled by a bronze wreath, which wag probably gilt. Accordingly this 
is so represented in the woodcnt as being caeential to the completion of 
the order. The base and shaft have, lite the upper part of the capital, 
more Ionic feeling in them than the order was afterwards allowed to 
retain ; and altogether it is, as here praotiaed, far more elegant, though 
lueoi complete, than the Roman form which superseded it. 


'l"he other Athenian example, that of the Tower of the \\ inda 
(woodcut No, 1^5), is remarkable as being almost purely Egyptian in 
itfl types, with no Ionic admixture. ITio columns have no bases, the 
capitals no volutes, and the water-leaf clings as closely to the bell as it 
does in tlic Egy})tian examples. The result altogether wants liehnosti, 



and, though appropriate od so small a scale, would hardly be pleaiiing 
on a larger. 

The great example of the temple of Jupiter Olj-mpius differs in no 
essential part from the Roman order, except that the comers of the 
abacus are not cut off; and that, being executed in Athens, there is a 
d^ree of taste and art displayed iu its executiou which we do not find 
in any Koman examples. It strictly vpeaking. however, belongs to 
that school, and should be enumerated with them, and not as a Grecian 

plained that the Kgyptians never used cary- 
iitide tigures, properly so called, to 
supjwrt the entablatures of their 
architecture, their figures being 
always attached to the frout of the 
columns or piers, which were the 
real bearing mass. At I'ersepolis, 
uud elsewhere in the East, we find 
figures overj-whei-e employed sup- 
jMirting the throne 
or the platform v( ^ 
the jwlaces of the 
kings; not, indeed, 
iiu their heads, as 
the Greeks iiseil 
them, lint rather 
in their upliftwl 


as well as 

King only 
m (.oujunc- 
tun «ith the lo- 
ui< 1 rdi_rnudwith 
1 nic df-tailfi, all 
INiint to an Asiatic 


for this 


questionable form ,. ,, 
ol lit As em- W 

plojedm the little - ii.-ll! 

UH. LM).uleHgiiretnlh, lJr1l4fhMu»uni. pyiiiLO attached tO '"■ ^7^,^^" 

the Erechtheium, 
these figures are used wiih so much taste, and all the ornaments are so 
dennt, that it is difBcult to criticise or find luult ; but it is oeverthe- 

Bk. III. Ch. II. 


lest certain that it was o mistake which oven the art of the Greets 
could hardly conceaL To use human figures to HUppurt a cornice is 
unpardonable, unless it is done as a mere 
secondary adjunct to a building. In the 
Erechtheium it is a little too prominent 
for this, though used with an much dis- 
cretion as was perhaps posidhk under the 
circumstances. Another example of the 
8ort is shown in woodcut No. 136, which, 
by employing a taller cap, avoids some of 
the objections to the other ; but the figure 
it«elf. on the other hand, is less architec- 
tural, and so errs on the other side. 

Another form of this class of support 
is that of the giants or Tdamonet, in- 
stances of which are found supporting 
the roof of the groat t«mple at Agri- 
gentum, and in the baths of the acmi- 
Grcek city of I'ompeii. As they do not 

actually bear the entablature, but only seem to relieve the masonry 
behind tiem, their employment iH less objectionable than tliat of the 
female figure above described ; but even they hardly fulfil tho condi- 
tions of true art, and their place might be better filled by some more 
strictly architectural feature. 


-"■ - ' \ 


B "^ 





IMM i-;">^ 






Forms of TeiiplE':s. 

'rho arrangements of Grecian Doric temples show almost less 
variety than the forms of the pillars, and no materials exist for tracing 
their gradual development in an historical point of view. The temples 
at Corinth, and tho oldest at Selinus, arc both perfect examples of the 
hcKastyle arrangement to which the Greeks adhered at all ages; and 
though there can be little doubt that the peripteral form, as well as 
the order itself, was borrowed from Egypt, it still was so much modified 
before it appeared in Greece, that it would be interesting, if it could 
be done, to trace the several steps by which the clumge was efi'ected. 

In an architectural point of view this is by no means difficult. The 
simplest Greek temples were mere colls, or small square apartments, 
suited to contain an imago— the front being what is technically called 
Aistyle in aniis, or with 2 pillars between antte, or square pilaster-like 
piers terminating the side walls. Honee the interior enclosure of 
Grecian temples is called the cell or cella, however large and splendid 
it may be. 

Tho next change was to separate the interior into a cell and porch 




Si-ale (or Fliui. 

JO 10 JO 40 

J* To TJ tif 
Sndi' lor Elevation. 


— — » 

by a wall with a large doorway in it, as in the small temple at 

Khamniis (woodcut No. 139), where the open- 
ing however can scarcely be called a doorway, 
as it extends to the roof. A third change was 
to put a porch of 4 pillars in fixjnt of the last 
arrangement, or, as appears to have been more 
usual, to bring forward the screen to the posi- 
tion of the pillars as in the last example, and to 
place the 4 pillars in front of this. None of 
these plans admitted of a peristyle, or pillars on 
the flanks. To obtain this it was necessary to 
increase the number of pillars of the portico 
to 6, or, as it is termed, to make it hexastyle, 
the 2 outer pillars being the first of a range of 
1.5 or 15 columns, extended along each side of 

139. Small Temple at Rhamnus. the temple. The Cell in this arrangement was 

a complete temple in itself — distyle in antis, 

most frequently made so at both ends, and the whole enclosed in its 

t i i tM 

140. Plan of Templf of Apollo nt 
Bussa?. Scale luo O. to 1 in. 

141. Pl«a of FlurtiieDon at Athens. 
Scale 100 fU to 1 in. 

142. Plan of Great Temple at Agrigentam. 
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. 

Bk. m. Ch. n. FORMS OF TEMPLES. 239 

envelope of columns, as in woodcut No. 140. Sometimes the cell was 
tetrastyle or with 4 pillars in front 

In this form the Greek temple may be said to bo complete, very few 
exceptions occurring to the rule, though the Parthenon itself is one 
of these few. It has a hexastyle portico at each end of the cell ; 
beyond these inner ones are octastyle porticos, with 17 columns on 
each flank. 

The great temple at Selinus is also octastyle, but it is neither 
so simple nor so beautiful in its arrangement ; and, from the decline 
of style in the art when it was built, is altogether a very inferior 

Another great exception is the great temple at Agrigentum (wood- 
cuts No. 142 and 144), where the architect attempted an order on so 
gigantic a- scale that ho was unable to construct the pillars with 
their architraves standing free. The interstices of the columns are 
therefore built up with walls pierced with windows, and altogether 
the architecture is so bad, that even its colossal dimensions must 
have failed to render it at any time a pleasing or satisfactory work 
of art. 

A fourth exception is the temple at Peestum before referred to, with 
9 pillars in front, a clumsy expedient, but which arose from its having 
a range of columns down the centre to support the ridge of the roof by 
a simpler mode than the triangular truss usually employed for carrying 
the ridge between two ranges of columns. 

With the exception of the temple at Agrigentum, all these were 
peristylar, or had ranges of columns all around them, enclosing the cell 
as it were in a case, an arrangement so apparently devoid of purpose, 
that it is not at first sight easy to account for its universality. It 
will not suffice to say that it was adopted merely because it was beau- 
tiful, for the forms of Egyptian temples, which had no pillars externally, 
were as perfect, and in the hands of the Greeks would have become as 
beautiful, as the one they adopted. Besides, it is natural to suppose 
they would rather have copied the larger than the smaller temples, if 
no motive existed for their preference of the latter. The peristyle, 
too, was ill suited for an ambulatory, or place for processions to circu- 
late round the temple ; it was too narrow for this, and too high to 
protect the procession from the rain. Indeed, I know of no suggestion 
except that it may have been adopted to protect the paintings on the 
walls of the cells from the inclemency of the weather. It hardly admits 
of a doubt that the walls were painted, and that without protection of 
some sort this would very soon have been obliterated. It seems also 
very evident that the peristyle was not only practically, but artistically, 
most admirably adapted for this purpose. The paintings of the Greeks 
were, like those of the Egyptians, composed of numerous detached 
groups, connected only by the story, and it almost required the inter- 



vGDtion of pilUra, or nome means of di\-iding into cam|nrtiii«ito the 
Hur£u« tri bu MO puinteil, to separate these gronps from one anotber, sad 
to provuiit tho whole sequenoe from being seen at once: wiiile on die 
other hand, nothing can have been more beantifnl than the whitenwrUc 
columnH relieved against a richly coloun?^ plane surface. The one 
appears no nccewuiry to the other, that it seems hardly to be doubted 
tliat thin WBH the cnnse, or that the eSect mnst have been most ani^ 
pawingly beautiful. 

Monc. nv Ligrtino Teiiples. 

Ill I'f the interim 


rient quuntities thront;h tlu> doorwi 

f Grecian templcfl neceesanlr de- 
pended on the mode in 
which they were light- 
ed. No one will. I be- 
lieve, now contend, u 
\na once done, that it 
was by lamplight alone 
that the beauty of their 
interiotw could be seen; 
and as light certainly 
was not introduced 
through tho side walls, 
nor could be in Buffi- 
onlv from the roof that it 

Bk. til Ch. II. 



could be admitted. At the same time it could not have been by a large 
horizontal opening in the roof, as has been supposed, as that would 
have admitted the rain and snow as well as the light ; and the only 
alternative seems to be one I suggested some years ago — of a clere- 
story,* similar internally to that found in all the great Egyptian 
temples,^ but externally requiring such a change of arrangement as 
was necessary to adapt it to a sloping instead of a flat roof. This 
seems to have been effected by countersinking it into the roof, so 
as to make it in fact '^ ridges in those parts where the light was 
admitted, though the regular slope of the roof was retained between 
these openings, so that neither the ridge nor the continuity of the 
lines of the roof was interfered with. This would effect all that 
was required, and in the most beautiful manner, it moreover agrees 
with all the remains of Greek temples that now exist, as well as 
with all the descriptions that liavo been handed down to us from 

This arrangement will be understood from the section of the Par- 
thenon (woodcut No. 143), restored in accordance with the alxiA^e 
explanation, which agrees perfectly with all that remains on the spot, 
as well as with all the accounts we have of that celebrated temple. 
The same system applies even more easily to the great hexastyle at 
I'a^stum, and to the beautiful little temple of ApoUo at Bassse, in 
Phigaleia (woodcut No. 140), and indeed to all regular Greek temples; 
and what is a more important point in the examination of this 
theory, it applies equally to the exceptional ones. The side aisles, 
for instance, of the great temple at Agrigentum were, as before 
mentioned, lighted by side windows; the (^ential one could only Ix^ 
lighted from the loof, and it is easy to see how this could be effecte<l 
by introducing it between the telamones, as shown in the woodcut 
No. 144. 

Another exceptional temple is that at Eleusis, which we know to 
have had windows and shutters alnive, used in admitting or excluding 
the light during the celebration of the mysteries. The arrangements 
of this temple lend- themselves admirably to this mode of introducing 
light, as shown in the plan and section annexed (woodcuts Nos. 145 
and 14(>). 

' Th(5 reaanns which iiiduced me to 
sugji^t'st an * opnion" or clerestory, instead of 
an *' hyi»A^thrun» *' or skylight, were fully 
set fortli in the * True Principlfs of Rauty 
in Art ' in 1849. I afterwards submitted a 
paper on the same subject to tlie Institute 
uf British Architects in 18G1. On this 
occasion a considerable amount of dis- 
cussion to")k place ; but no valid objection 
was brought forwunl against my viewt, 
except, of course, their novelty, and their 

VOL. I. 

being oppostnl to authority. Sixteen years 
is probably not long enough time to allow 
of u new theory being adopie<I ; but as 
my proposal certainly docs meet both the 
artistic and Hteniry exigenci* s of the case 
better than any other that has been put 
forwanl, in sixteen more it may probably 
find its way into books on architecture, or 
earlier if I should liappen to die in the 
2 Sec woodcuts Nos. 20, 22, 25. 









The gTX>at toraple of Jupiter Olympius (wixnieut \o. 147) "was ap- 
parently lighteii according to an- 
other system, owing probably to its 
immense height, and other pecnli- 
aritie8 of its eonstmction. The 
light seems to have been introdnced 
into what may be considered a 
court, or hypifthrum, in front of the 
cell, which was lighted through its 
inner wall. This seems to have 
been the temple mentioned by Vi- 
truvius,* whose description has 
given rise to such confusion on this 
subject. It is decastyle and the 
only one to which his words apply, 
or to which it is possible to adapt 
such a mode of lighting as he de- 








/f^'j Q r 

C •-• O • fi 

I'Ln "f T'lhpV- of Or.Ti at Kl-usi*. 
Sc,U- 1«»«J ft. t'» 1 in 


JV>ctKni of Templi^ of Ceros at I■Il'•u^iil. sjcalo 50 ft. to 1 iiu 

The Ionic t<.-nipleH of Asia are all too much ruineii to enable ns to 
say exa<;tly in wliat manner, and to what extent, this mode of lighting 
was apjdied tr» them, though there seems no doubt that the method 
there adopted was very similar in all its main features. 

The little temple of Nik^* Apteros, and the temple on the Ilissus, 
were both too small to require any complicated arrangement of the 
sort, and the Erechtheium was lighted by windows which still remain 
at the west end, so that wo cran hardly feel sure that the same expedi- 
ent was not adopted to at least some extent in the Asiatic examples. 
The latter, however, is, with one exception, tlie sole instance of windows 
in any European (!reek temple, the only other example being in the 
very exceptional temple at Agrig(?ntum. It is valuable, besides, as 
showing how little the ({reeks were l)ound by rules, or by any fancied 
laws of H^nnmetry. 

* Vitniviiw, lib. i. cli. 1. 

bk. hi. Cii. n. MODE of lighting temples. 


O □ O B! B Si 

As is shown in the plan, elevation, and view (woodcuta Nos. 148, 
149, 150), the Ereehtheium consisted, properly speaking, of 3 temples 
grouped together ; and it is astonish- 
ing what pains the architect took to 
prevent their being mistaken for one. 
The porticos of two of them are on dif- 
ferent levels, and the third or carya- 
tide porch is of a different height and 
different style. Every one of these 
features is perfectly symmetrical in 
itself, and the group is beautifully 
balanced and arranged ; and yet no 
Gothic architect in his wildest mo- 
ments could have conceived anything 
more picturesquely irregular than the 
whole becomes. Indeed there can be 
no greater mistake than to suppose 
that Greek architecture was fettered 
by any fixed laws of formal symmetry : 
each detail, every feature, every ob- 
ject, such as a hall or temple, which 
could be considered as one complete 
and separate whole, was perfectly 
symmetrical and regular ; but no two 
buildings— no two apartments — if for 
different pui-poses, were made to look 
like one. On the contrary, it is quite 
curious to observe what pains they took to arrange their buildings 
so as to produce variety and contrast, instead of formality or single- 
ness of effect. Temples, when near one another, were never placed 
parallel, nor were even their propylsea and adjuncts ever so arranged 
as to be seen together or in one line The Egyptians, as before re- 


D □ 

Plan of Temple of Jupiter Oljinpius at 
Athens. Scale 100 ft to 1 in. 

148. Plan of Ereehtheium. 
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. 

149. Section of Ereehtheium. 
Scale 50 ft to 1 in. 

marked, had the same feeling, but carried it into even the details of 
the same building, which the Greeks did not. In this, indeed, as 
in almost every other artistic mode of expression, they seem to have 
hit exactly the happy medium, so as to produce the greatest hannony 

R 2 

. :an a::>. fiiteltoie. 

■;■-■-:■%■ :;,. uiiiiiitost wnitiiiy iiml tin- 
■.:. '.■.:;->' ir..liuf.l iin imim^lmi..- uttA 

l7i:.-> lV..l,-:lMMllvh,.I.UTS. 

A hi>t.>:y ■ i y'.v. -..r.: ,i:- I.-:.. ■■:-■ .a:; hir.ily !>■ ,viisi.l<?r.'.l ns nm,- 
Iiloto witlf'ur -■!;;.■ !;■.■, v.:- ■: . *' :■■■ ;;;■■ .i: Ki.V.i-.-,iti ti'iiiiik', which w:is 
rhi- Ltrfri'!.t uii.l m -^t pvj;.--;- ■ :' ..',1 ri'. -^ vit.ri-I by riu' (inTfcs, ami 
wmsitli-ml 1.%-ih'iiiii-.. :;. .f:;;.. *. v ii w,,i^i .-f the vi-.>rl.l. .stniiig.- 
to S.V. h-.«vv,.|. >i..[ a v>-.r;-. .i' ii Uis .-..,,,0 ,l..wn t.. .mr di.y«. \V,. 
Ittirii fnmi I'liiiy,' ih;ti in .i.i. r t.> ;iv..i,i tlir •Im^^T iiiitui]>iit»il fiimi 
rarihiiiiiikt'H. Us finm.lir .ivs, ,i sini.irii ii in n marsh, uii wLkli it waw 
tUuUil with iiitmitt' skill. Hm iii vain, h h;is Miuk— iinsKihly oiitire. 
lhn>U):h ehi- uu>t;il'U' soil .-n it «as (■laii-l. iiiul its BiUKition 
•.iiiiiiot iKiw U- ili«i'V('Hil.' 

Iu.Ut th.«- .ir.-.misti.ii.'v* «,■ a^^■ loft wti.^Ily t.. tl»- voiK.I tU'si-rii^ 
tioii tMuli)iii(\l in tin- works of I'liny, Vitriiviiis. l'liih>, nnil iilhi-ni. 
mill to ihv ivpix-^iita lions ,n oiin> an.l iiuiUils. 'nn-Kf wIkii fairly 
cxiiiHinttl. liiiwovir, wifliii' r.- . nulilo iis to ivst.'iv tlu' phin with aliu<M<t 
Hlviohiti- ivrtaiiity: ami wlun tho [ilni i- known, thi- aiipi-anm^- of a 
(Iruuk Ionic t<'»nih' ^1l^ily Iv iinuvivoil. 

rUiiy, II. N. xxxvii. il. 1 v.«n' Kill s.;tn'l>ii>>; H111I ili^-dnc in rain : 

■y Muud Mr. Wowl, an nwiiititl n- * ' ' 

"" at Binjnia. Iur fnr t1u< Iiih( tvn I 

Hk. III. Cn. II. 



The principal passage in Pliny * is to this effect : - " The totiil lengtli 
of the temple is 425 feet, the width 220. It lias one hundred and 
twenty-seven columns given 
by different kings, and GO feet 
in height, of these 3G are 
carved, one by Scopas." * 

We further learn from Vi- 
truvius,* and from various 
medals* representing it, that 
it was octastyle. 

The great difficulty wliich 
these data present is to recon- 
cile tlie numlxir of 137 pillars 
with the known laws of Greek 
octastyle temples. It is felt 
to be imjx)ssible ; and in con- 
sequence the last restorer* luis 
suggested the introduction of 
a comma after ** viginti," mak- 
ing it thus " 120 columns, 7 
given by different kings." It 
is, however, extremely im- 
probable, that if only so small 
a number were given by differ- 
ent kings that it would have 
lxH>n noted, and even this ex- 
cisi<m still requires that the 
temple should be deciustyle. 
The solution of the riddle as 
suggested by Dr. Guhl, lies 
in placing the comma after 
*' centum," and the j)assage 
thus stands ** 100 columns, 27 of which were given by different kings." 

With this adjustment the arrangement of the temi)le is easy. The 
columns were disposed as shown in the annexed plan, 25 ft. 7 inches 
apart from centre to centre. The columns, being GO ft. in height, were 
probiibly 7 ft. 4 or 5 inches in diameter, and the spacing was conse- 
quently eustyle — the most admired proportion or 2i diameter apart — 
and the square of the bases was probably 1 1 feet. The length there- 
fore of the temple was made up of — 


Robtorcd Plan of the IVniplo of Diana at Ephcsus. 
Scale luo ft U» 1 in. 

' •* Univereo Tcihi»1o lougitudo est, * Pliny, 1(m^. sup. cit. ^ Vitruviiu*, iii. I. 
ccccxxv. pt'thim, latitiulo ccxx. Goluintia) "* Donaldtitm, * Aivhittfturii Niiinitfiua- 
ceiitum viginti feC|itL-iii u singulis regibus ticii,* vi. 

facta), l.\. pLMlum ultitutline : ex iis xxxvi. ' * Failkuiicr, * Kplicsus anil tliu Tfnji>Ie 
liuluto), una n Scop.i.' — II. N. x.\xvi. H. of Diana/ p. 222. 


n. io. 

l.'i jiitcixytliiinniations, 25 ft. 7 in. X 15 := 3S3 7 

AtM li»r tin- two half U\!k'S bt'voml 11 

AiM for tlic 10 bU.'|h) oil which it wutf ruLscd 15x2 ... = 30 

42i 7 

'r\w width was mado up of — 

7 intfitMlunmiatiuu^ of 23 ft. 7 in = 179 1 

.\aa fur 2 Imlf Iwsis 11 

Ailii for t^trin* aa aN-»ve 15 X 2 = 30 

220 1 

Or. n'jivtiiig fmctiiais, I'xaotly the numbers required. 

l>v u.Niiij:c dii-iiiials the disorc'iiaucj' of G inches might easily be matle 
li» diKij^|H»ar. 

The M iMhmnis whieh were more oniamontcd than the rest wen.* 
|»n«KiMy tluw ^hadid darker. The buihiing, l>eing octastyle, could 
not, aiH\»rdiuj: to Vitnivius' W hyiuetral, but must have bet-n lighted 
l»\ an ou-iii>u or eleri>torv. 

If i>t' tliese »linuu>ion> the teniple must have covered 93,500 feet, 
wliiili In ni'Ti- th;in are CKvupiiil bv Cologne, or any of oar medittval 
eatlhsb"5»l> e\ri jM Milan. \\ ith eobnnus tJo ftvt in height, di^igned as 
graeelullx and ovnauh ntt-vl as tastrfully as we can well stip]X)r«o a 
(Jitek teni]»le of tliat age to have Ixvn, We need not lie stirprisetl if 
llie (inHk> did i^»nsidtr this temple a mimele of art. lliough nothing 
of it now nuiains. ex en we ean realise its dimensions and upjK^-iranet' 
hullieienllx Well tt» ftnl how just their Verdict was, and how much we 
liave lost bx it> disiipjvamnvv. 

Ml AiioinrrcTiKt. 

\ nx liitlo noxx n mains -'f all the varii»us classes of muuieipil and 
dohirstie ImildiuiiN xxljirh nni>t ouiv have ivvered the land uf Gnitv, 
anil fit»m xxliai xxe kn^'xx i.f the eXipiisite fivlings for art tliat jvrvadi'd 
that iwttple. iIh'X xxrix* ix^rtainly not Kss K-autiful, though more ephe- 
nieial, than I he sai ud buildings x\lio>e ruins still remain to us. 

There ait\ htA\exei. txvo buiMing> in Athens which, though small. 
gi\e um nio^t I'valtrd idias \A^ tluir ia>te in such matters, llie first 
ulreatlx idbiiird to. nsuallx knoxxna^tlle Toxwr of the Winds, is a idain 
tH'tagonal buililiut; aU«iit !.*» ft. in bright by 24 in width, oniameutod 
by 2Mnall |Hiri hr> o{' 'J pillar^ rai h. nf the l\»rinthian order, the capitals 
of which are iipioM-ntrd in xx,»»Hlviit No. i:l."). Its roof, like the rest of 
the buihiing, In t»f x\lnio ntaiMi. and ^f >iniple but very eh^nt di'sign, 
and l»eh>xv this i> a fi ii .-e i-f > laiii'i' li::un'>, sxtnbdical of the 8 winds, 
fri»m which the toxxer t.ikes it> name, they in fact l»eing the princijul 
objivlH and ornanirnt.s \A^ the building, the mi»st imiK^rtant use of which 
ap]it4ii*N to have Uh'U to enutain a elei»Nydr;i or water-clock. 

Till* other building, though sinalKr. is still more beautiful. It is 

' Vitiiixiiio iii. 2 

Bk. hi. Ch. IL 


known as tbo Cboragic Moaumont of Lyeicratee, and coiutiste uf a 
square base 12 ft. high by 9 ft. wide, on which etanda a circuhtr temple 
adumcd by 6 CoriDlliian coIiuuhb, which, 
with their entablature, and the roof and 
pedestal thejr support, make up 22 ft. more, 
HO that the whole height of the monument 
18 only 34 ft. Notwithstanding these in- 
ttignificant dimeUHione, the beauty of it» 
wjlumJiM {woodcut No. 134) and of (hoir 
tiiilablaturc, above all, the beauty of the 
roof, and of the finial ornament designed t^i 
complete the building, whieh is unrivalled 
for elegance even in Gi-eek art, make u]) 
II ci.>mposition so perfect that nothing in 
any other style or ago can be said to sur- 
pass it. If this is a fair index of the art that 
was lavished on the smaller objcctH, the tem- 
ples hardly give a just idea of all that have 


In extreme contrast with tho buildings 
last described, which were among the small- 
est, fuuio the tluMitrcs, which wci-e the 
lai^^t of the monuments the Greeks seem 
ever to have attempted. 

The anuexcd plan of one at Draniyssus, 
the ancient Ilodona, will give an idea of 
their fonus and arrangements. Its dimen- 
sions may bo said to be gigantic, being 
443 ft. across ; but even this, though perhaps 

the largest in Greece, is fiir surpariscd by many in Asia Minor. What 
remains of it, however, is moiirly tlio auditorium, and consists only of 
ranges of seats arranged in a semicirele, but without architectural orna- 
ment. Ill all the examples in I'Jiirupo. the proscenium, which was the 
only part architecturally ornamcnteil, lias jierished, so that, till we can 
restore tliis with something like certainty, the theatres hardly come 
within the class of Architecture aa a fine art. 

In Asia Minor Mime of the theatres have their proscenia adorned 
with niches and columns, and friezes of gruit richness, but all these 
belong to the Itoman [leiiod, and though probably copies of the mode 
in which the Greeks ornamented theirs, are so corrupt in style as to 
prevent their being used with safety in attempting to restore the earlier 

Many circumstances would indeed induce us to believe that tho 

2, ChDrDgic Hunm 


.>«r,-iim uf til.- .■iirli.-r tlji^atn-s ii.iiy Imvc l>.-.,-n <•{ w.»>.I ..r biwnw. or 
>t)i I'liMiliiiK'il. )iiiil Iivi^rliti'iiiil 1>y ]Eiiiitiii)£ iiiid i-iir%'iii}; to ti grmt 
■fill'.-s. Il,..rt;r]i't.> iitMl -■..iiK..iiai.l witli !!«■ 

i<:ili :i)i<l lii-l.TV ..f tt>.' .lritil;i. W..I1I.I Ik. 0.t;il to tllu UXlHvtwtioli uf 

lytliing ln-iii;; tiiiiiiil tn illusirjili' its wirlii.'Ht fl>llll^<. 

Likr tlj.- ..tfi.T Ary:m I'a.vs. ll 
aixl nollnii^ol'ui.y ii.'i[K.rtaiir.- of 

rli.- 1 Ks i.f III,. ,:ivW I'rli.-Hir 

In.^iMirii-N, I'K thi'V im: ]>>'[iiiliiily 

lirwks nivir won- tDHiblinildcTji. 
m lOiiNs iH f..iiu.l in Gm-o.-, t^soi-pt 
ITS. wliiili wiiT i-ilhcr tliiiiuli, vr 
illf.1. 'I'lu-iv i.iv. it is tnu'. «..nic 

iLNM^toiK^ »ud mimII I'ilbirH 'if iriviit U-uiily. lint iht'v an- mo»..|itliie. 
mill iHJi.nH nitlii T I" iln' ■l.|inrliiKiil ..f Miil|.tiuv than i>f nn-Iiitw^nri'. 
ill Ahi.. Minor llii^iii iir<. kohi.- iiiii».i-limt ti.iulB-. s.-.i.i.; Imilt ami otk>r« 

nit ill III.- i.N-k-. S .,r III., latter hav.- Ks-n a.-stiilxs! V-toR- tii 

..pilkillK of lli<! toliilw nf lliv Lyriaiis. Tlu' bliilt vKniiipU* wlii<-li 

ri'iiiaiii al si nil U';: ).• tin- liuiDaii iH'i'iu.l. tlioii^li tlu; typiinl 

■iikI liy liir til.- lHM^t <-|.lfM(lia .■xaiiick- uf ili.-.-k toml»* was that ercctol 
liy Al t.'iiiLMii to llir iti.'tiioty lit livr IihsIkiii.I MiinMitiiK utlfftlkitimtftms. 
\Vi' know dimijili ..f iho .■liniu- ivIatioiiM of the Carianu to he 
iihhi to nii.liTi.latL.l wliiit iiLliiml tluni to ailoi't »i c-x.rptional a iiioik> 
(ir.loiiif; lioiioin- I." lli.-ir (Kail. U itli imiv (irr.-t.ks it iinint liuvc Ktu 
iiiil>.iNhil>1(-. hnt till- inhiiliilatilH ..i' ih,->..: i-m^ls wi-rr- i.f a diffyrunt race, 
mill hull a (lilUT.-iil ih.kIc of .-x|>iv.smii^ lli<-ir I't^dini^K. 


Till Mr. Newton's visit to Halicamafisus in 1856 the veiy site of 
this seventh wonder of the world was a master of dispute. We now 
know enough to be able to restore the principal parts with absolute 
certainty, and to ascertain its dimensions and general appearance within 
very insignificant limit 3 of error.* 

The dimensions quoted by Pliny* are evidently extracted from a 
larger work said to have been wiitten by the architect who erected it, 
and wliich existed at his tima Every one of them hns been confirmed 
in the most satisfactory manner by recent discoveries, and enable us to 
put the whole together without much hesitation. 

Sufficient remains of the quadriga, which crowned the monument, 
have been brought home to give its dimensions absolutely. All the 
parts of the Ionic order are complete. The steps of the pyramid have 
been found and iKjrtions of the three friezes, and these, with Pliny's 
dimensioUH and description, are all that are required to assure us that 
its aspect must have been very similar to the form i-epresentc»d in 
woodcut Xo. 154. There can be little doubt with regard to the upper 
storey, but in order to work out to the dimensions givep by Plinv 
(411 ft. in circumference), and those found cut out in the rock (462 ft), 
the lower siurey must be spread out beyond the upper to the extent, 
and most probably something after the manner there shown. 

The building consisted iiitemally of two cliambers superimposed 
the one on the other, each 52 ft. G in. by 42 ft. — the lower one being 
the vestibule to the tomb beyond — the up|x?r was surrounded by a 
peristyk" of ot) eulumns. Externally the height was divided into three 
equal portions of 37 ft. in. each (25 cubiis), one of which was allotted 
to the— one to the pyramid with its meta — and one to the order 
between them. These with 14 ft. the height of the quadnga, and 
the same dinieu-sion belonging to the lower entablature, made up the 
height of 140 Cireek feef* given it by Pliny. 

Thougli its height was unusually groat for a Greek building, its 
other dimensions were small. It covered only 13,230 feet. The ad- 
miration therefore which the Greeks expresstnl regaiding it must have 
arisen first from the unusual nature of its design and of the purpose 
to which it was applied, or pel haps nic^re still from the extent and 
richness of its sculptured decorations, of the l)enuty of which we are 
now enabled to judge, and can fully share with them in admiring. 

Another, but verj- much smaller, tomb of about the same age was 

* It will not Ikj iiecesMvry to enter btrc Greek feet: the differenco between them 

iato all the iletiild of thid riHtoration. and £ngli^h t'tvi Inking only 1^ jjer cent, 

Tliey will bo found in a aepamto wr»rk is hunlly p<.roe|.tibb in tliese dimensions, 

pabliahed by nio on the subject, to which witliout di. ci nding to minute fractious, 
the reader is referred. I and disturbing the coiuparisoa with Pliny 8 

« -Hist Nttt' xxxvi. v. Uxt. 
'<: * The llgnres givi a in tlie text nrc fill 

Uk. 111. Ch. II. 



found by Mr. Newton at Cnidus, and known as tho Lion Tomb, from 
tlie figurii of thtkt animal, now in tho British Museum, which ciovmod 
its eiimmit^ Like many other tombs found in Asia and in Africa, it 
follows the typo of tho Mausoleum in its more important features. It 
pos8e»«)H a base — a peristyle —a pj'ramid of steps— and lastly, an acro- 
Uii ion or pedestal meaDt to support a quadriga or statuo, or some other 
crowning object, which appropriately terminated the design upwards. 

Several oxainplesj erected diirint; tho Ifoman period will be illiis- 
trtited when speaking of tho architecture of that penplc, all bearing 
tho impress of tho influence the Mansoleum had on tho tomb orchi- 
tecli'ce of that i^e ; but unfortunately we cannot yet go biiekwards 
and point out the type from which tho design of tlio mausoleum itself 
was elaborated. The tombs of Babylon and I'aBBMt^dse aro remote 
bi)th geographically and artistically, though not without certain essen- 
tial resemblances. Perhaps the missing links may ^oino day reward 
the industry of Gomo tciontific explorer. 

,'.- i.f CrH-iiiii iliiii- :iM<l 

-il..! >.r>IIH-ilU<.'llt)Y ilill'.l-- 

Hk. III. Oh. I 


from itg proitimily to Egypt, and consoquently to a mere desire to imi- 
tate tliat poi>pI<i, or from bwuo ethnic pocnliurity. Most probably the 
latter, thougli we know ko little about them that it ie difficult to speak 
with precision on such a. Nnbject' 

I'hese t4im)>s are chiefly interesting from mnny of the detailB of the 
architecture still rolaining the colour with which they were originally 
adorned. The triglyphs of the Uoric order are still painted bine,* an 
appears to Itave been the universal practice, and the pillars are outlined 
by red lines. The metopes arc darker, and arc adorned with painted 
gi-oujM of figures. The whole making up one of the most perfect 
exiimples of Grecian oolouied decoration which still remain. 

There is another tomb at the same place ^this time structural — 
which ia interesting not so much for any architectural beauty it poa- 
Nt'Hsea an from its belonging to nn exceptional t^'po. It consists now 

only of ft circular baHoment — the upper part is gone, — and is crecfed 
over an excavated rockniut tomb. There seem to bo several others of 
the same class in the necropolis, and are the only examples known 

' Tlie circuinslancc of Ai«ika,tlic Biidd- 

liiut kins "f I'"iiUi n ". 250, linving f(inne<l 
ail allimice with MogHs of Gyrene for iLc 
succoDT of his co-rcliginniats in tlie domi- 
niong of tho lattrr, points to nicb a oon- 

rlnnnn, even if ootliing else did. Journal 
Asiatic Sm-iety of Bengal, vii. p. 2GI ; 
J. R. A. S. xii. p. 223, et acq. 

• BeMliy'a ' Journey to Cyrene,' p. 144 ; 
tee aleo Smith and PoKber, pi. ^. 


except those at Marathos, one of which is illuRtrated above (wooden t 
No. 114). As before hinted, the Syrian example does not appear to 
be very ancient, but we want further information before speaking 
positively on this subject. No one on the spot has attempted to fix 
with precision the age of the Cyrenean examples ; nor have they been 
drawn in such detail as is requi^ite for others to ascertain the fact. 
They may 1x3 as late as tlie time of the Homans, but can hardly date 
prior to the age of Alexander the Great. 

Domestic Architecture. 

We have nothing left but imperfect verbal descriptions of the do- 
mestic, and even of the palatial architecture of Greece, and, conse- 
quently, can only judge imperfectly of its forms. Unfortunately t<x>, 
Pompeii, though but lialf a Greek city, belongs to too late and too 
corrupt an age to enable us to use it even as an illustration ; but we 
may rest assured tliat in this, as in ever^'thing else, the Greeks dis- 
played the same exquisite taste which pervades not only their monu- 
mental architecture, but all their works in metal or clay, down to the 
meanest object, which have been preserved to our times. 

It is probable that the forms of their houses were much more irre- 
gular and picturesque than we are in the habit of supposing them to 
hiive been. They seem to have taken such pains in their temples — in 
the Erechtheium, for instance, and at Eleusis — to make every part tell 
its own tale, that anything like f(.>rced regularity must have been offen- 
sive to them, and they would probably make everj' apartment exactly 
of the dimensions required, and group them so that no one shoiild under 
any circumstances be confounded with another. 

This, however, with all the details of their domestic arts, must now 
remain to us as mere speculation, and the architectural history of Greece 
must bvi coiifint'd to her tt^niples and monumental erections. These 
suffice to explain the nature and fonus of the art, and to assign to it the 
rank of the purest and most intellectual of all the styles wliich have 
yet been followed in any i)i\rt of the world. 






Historical notice — Temples — Rock-cut tombs — Tombs at Castel d'Asso — Tumiili. 


Migration trom Asia Minor about 12th cent. ilc. 

Tomb of Ptonsenna about B.C. BOO 

Etniria becomes subject to Rome „ 330 

TiiK ethnographical history of art in Italy is in all its essential features 
similar to that of Greece, though arriving at widely different results 
from causes the influence of which it is easy to trace. Both are 
examples of an Arj^an development based on a Turanian civilization 
which it had superseded. In Greece — as already remarked — the traces 
of the earlier people are indistinct and difficult to seize. In Italy their 
fwitures are dra^vn with a coarser hand, and extend down into a more 
essentially historical age. It thus happens that we have no doubt as 
to the existence of the Etruscan people — we know very nearly who 
tliey were, and cannot be mistaken as to the amount and kind of 
influence they exercised on the institutions and arts of the Romans. 

The more striking differences appear to have arisen from the fact, 
that Greece had some four or five centuries of comparative repose 
during which to form herself and her institutions after the Pelasgic 
civilization was struck down at the time of the Dorian occupation of 
the Peloponnesus. During that period she was undisturbed by foreign 
invasion, and was not tempted by successful conquests to forsake the 
gentler social arts for the more vulgar objects of national ambition. 


Romo'8 history, on the other hand, from the earliest aggr^ation of a 
robber horde on the banks of the Til)er till she became the arbiter of 
the destinies of the ancient world, is little beyond the record of con- 
tinuous wars. From the possession of the seven hills, Home gradually 
carried lier sway at the edge of the sword to the dominion of the 
whole of Italy, and of all the then known world, destroying every- 
thing that stood in the way of her ambition, and seeking only the 
acquisition of wealth and power. 

Greece, in the midst of her successful cultivation of the arts of 
commerce and of peace, stimulated b}- the wholesome rivalry of the dif- 
ferent states of wliich slie was composed, was awakened by the l^ersian 
invasion to a struggle for existence. The result was one of the most 
brilliant imsstiges in the world's history-, and no nation was ever more 
justified in the jubilant outburst of enthusiastic patriotism that fol- 
lowed the repulse of the invader, than was Greece in that with which 
she commenced her short but brilliant career. A triumph so gained 
by a ix?ople so constituknl letl to results at which we still wonder, 
though they ctiuse us no surprise. If Greece athiineil her manho<Kl on 
the l)attlefields of Marathon and Salaniis, Kome eipially reached the ma- 
turity of her career when she cruelly and criminally destroyed Corinth 
and C'ai-thage, and the sequel was such as might ho expected from such 
a diiference of eduwition. Kome had n<> time for the cultivation of the 
arts of jx^ice, and as little sympiithy for th(;ir gentler influences. Con- 
quest, wealth, and consequent power were the objects of her ambition — 
for the«e she sacrificed everything, and by their means she attained a 
pinnacle of greatness that no nation had reiich(Hl before or has since. 
Her art*i have all the impress of this greatness, and are characterised 
by the stinie vulgar grandeur which marks everything she did. Very 
different they are from the intellectual beauty found in the work« of 
the Greeks, but in some sense they are tis interesting to those who can 
read the character of nations in these arfistic productions. 

In the early pirt of liur career Koine Wiis an Etniscan city under 
Etruscjin kings and institutions. After she had emancii>ated herself 
from their yoke, Etruria long reniiineil her equal and her rival in 
jmliticiil jMiwer, and her instructress in religion and the art« of peace. 
This continue<l so long, and th(^ architectunil remains of that iKH>ple atv 
so numerous, and have l)een so thoroughly investigjiteil, tliat we have 
no difficulty in jiscertaining the rxt^^nt of influence the older nation had 
on the nascent empire. It is nioi-e difficult to ascerttiin exactly wht> 
the Etruscans themselves were, or whence they c^une. But on the 
whole there seems every reason to believe they migrated from Asia 
Minor some twelve or thirteen centuries l>efore the (Christian era, and 
fixed themsdvos in Italy, most prol>ably among the Umbrians, or some 
people of aixnilar race, who had settled there Ix^fore — so long before. 

Hk. IV. Cii. I. TEMPLES. 257 

l)orlmps, HH to entitle them to be considered among the aboriginal 

It would have been only natural that the expatriated Trojans 
should have sought refuge among such a kindred people, though we 
liave nothing but the vaguest tradition to warrant a belief that this was 
tlie case. They may too from time to time have received other acces- 
sions to their strength, but they were a foreign people in a strange 
land, and scarcely seem over to have become naturalised in the country 
of their adoption. But what stood still more in their way was the fact 
that they were an old Turanian people in presence of a young and am- 
bitious community of Aryan origin, and, as has always been the case 
when this has happened, they were destined to disappear. Before doing 
so, however, they left their impress on the institutions and the arts 
of their conquerors to such an extent as to be still traceable in every 
form. It may have been that there was as much I^elasgic blood in the 
veins of the Greeks as there was Etruscan in those of the Komans ; 
but the civilization of the former had passed away before Greece had 
developed herself. Etruria, on the other hand, was long contemporary 
with Kome : in early times her equal, and sometimes her mistress, and 
consequently in a position to force her arts upon her to an extent that 
was never effected on the opposite shore of the Adriatic. 


Nothing can prove UK^re clearly the Turanian origin of the Etrus- 
(;aiis than the fact that all we know of them is derived from their 
tombs. These exist in hundreds — it may almost l)e said in thousands 
— ^nt the gates of every city, but no vestige of a temple has come 
down to our days. Had any Semitic blood flowed in their veins, as 
has IxxiU sometimes suspected, they could not have been so essentially 
sepulchral as they were, or so fond of contemplating death, as is proved 
by the fact that a purely Semitic tomb is still a desideratum among 
antiquaries, not one having as yet been discovered. What we should 
like to find in Etruria would be a square p^Tamidal mound with 
external steps leading to a cella on its summit, but no trace of any 
siich has yet been detected. Their other temples — using the word 
in the sense in which we usually understand it — were, as might be 
expected, insignificant and ephemeral. So much so, indeed, that except 
from one passage in Vitruvius,* and our being able to detect the influ- 
ence of the Etruscan style in the buildings of imjxirial Rome, we should 
liardly detect their existence there. The truth seems to be that the 
religion of the Etruscans, like that of most of their congeners, was 
essentially ancestral, and their woi*sliip took the form of i-espect for the 

* Vitruvius, iv. 7. 
VOL. I. s 



Part I. 

reiiiains of tlic dwid and reverence lV»r tlieir meinon\ Ttanlw canse- 
«im'ntly, and nnt tnnplrs, wrre the objcK'tjs i»n wliieh tliey la\T*ilied their 
an-liittH-tural resoureeK. Tli4*v e<Ttainlv were not idi.daters. in the sense 
in wliieli we usually underntand the tenn. Tliev liad no distinet or 
priviK'^rd priestlnHid, and eonsei^uently had no motive for ereetinjj 
temples which hy their mapiificence sliould be pleasing to their gtidK, 
«»r ten<l to tlu? j^lnrifiwition of their kinj^-s or priestt?. ^5till less were 
tiiey rrrpiired f<»r congre^itional imrjMjKCs by the people at large. 

Tin' only individual temple of Etruscan origin of which we have 
any knowh.Mljjjc*, is that of C^ipitoline Jupiter at Komc.' Originally 
small, it was n']wiirrd and rebuilt till it K-c^ime under the Empire a 
splmdid tani*. l^ut not one vestige of it now ri'iuains, nor d<K*s any 
ih;s<"ri]>tion from which we could restore its appciimnci' with anything 
like Certainty. 

From the r-hapter of the work of Vitruvius just alluded to, we 
learn that tiie Mtrusc-ans had two class* 's of temples: one circular like 
thi'ir stnietural tombs, and dedicated to one deity; the other elas8 
rei-tan;;:ular. but these always ]»ossessing three cells, were devuted to 
the worship of thn'<' ginls. 

The gi'nenil arrangement nf the plan, as <lesiTilx.Hl by Vitruvius, \i"aH 
that slio>yii nn tlu* plan Udovy ( Fig. 1), and is generally ustiented to by 






1 1 

J L 

.^3 D 

rv i 


I'l.m ;iiul S'ltioii i'{ Ml Ktiu>c;iii Trini»K'. 

all those who have attempted the restor.ition. in larger tempk^s in 
Konian times the number of pillars in front may have lx*en doubled, 
and they would thus be arranged like those of the portico of the 
Panthecm, which is es.*^entially an Ktruscan anangement. The restor- 
ation of the elevation is more difficult, and the ai-gumcnt tiKi long tti 
be entered uiM»n lien' r but its construction and ])rojx>rt ions seem to 
have l)een very much like thoM* drawn in the above diagrsim (Fig. 2). 
Of (M»urse, as wo^Hlen structures, they were richly and elaboratelv 
t-arveib and the ert'ect heightened by colours, but it is in vain to attempt 

' PiuiivsiuH, iv. <'•!. 
- Fi»r iiii»re lietiiil, m.-*- " Tnu- rrinciplcs of lifjtuly in Art,' p. 41<i et &oi|. 

I5k. IV. Ch. I. TEMPLES. 259 

to restore them. Without a single example to guide us, and with 
very little collateral evidence which can at all be depended upon, it 
is hardly possible that any satisfactory restoration could be made. 
Moreover, their importance in the history of art is so insignificant, that 
the labour such an attempt must involve would hardly be repaid by 
the result. 

The original Etruscan circular temple seems to have been a mere 
circular cell with a porch. The Romans surrounded it with a peristyle, 
which probably did not exist in the original style. They magnified 
it afterwards into the most characteristic and splendid of all their 
temples, the Pantheon, whose portico is Etruscan in arrangement and 
design, and whose cell still more distinctly belongs to that order, nor 
can there be any doubt that the simpler Roman temples of circular 
form are derived from Etruscan originals. It would therefore be of 
great importance if we could illustrate the later buildings from existing 
remains of the older ; but the fact is that such deductions as we may 
draw from the copies are our only source of information respecting the 

We know little of any of the civil buildings with which the cities 
of Etruria were adorned, beyond the knowledge obtained from the 
remains of their theatres and ampliitheatres. The form of the latter 
was essentially Etruscan, and was adopted by the Romans, with whom 
it became their most characteristic and grandest architectural object. 
Of the amphitheatres of ancient Etniria only one now remains in so per- 
fect a state as to enable us to judge of their forms. It is that at Sutri, 
which, however, being entirely cut in the rock, neither affords informa- 
tion as to the mode of construction, nor enables us to determine its age. 
The general dimensions are 295 ft. in its greatest length, by 2G5 in 
breadth, and is consequently much nearer a circular form than the 
Romans generally adopted ; but in other respects the arrangements are 
such as appear to have usually prevailed in after times. 

Besides these we have numerous works of utility, but these belong 
more strictly to engineering than to architectural science. The city 
walls of the Etruscans surpass those of any other ancient nation in 
extent and beauty of workmanship. Tlieir drainage works and their 
bridges, as well as those of the kindred Pelasgians in Greece, still 
remain monuments of their industrial science and skill, which their 
successors never surpassed. 

On the whole perhaps we are justified in asserting that the 
Etruscans were not an architectural people, and had no temples or 
palaces worthy of attention. It at least seems certain that nothing 
of the sort is now to bo found even in ruins, and, were it not that 
tlie study of Etruscan art is a necessftry introduction to that of 
Rome, it would hardly )x^ worth while trying to gatlier together an<l 
illustrate the few fragments and notices of it tluit remain. 

s 2 



The toiubK i>f tlic KtnistniiiH now fuimd iiiav be divided into two 
c*lass»?s: — First, tln>se cut in the nK.-k, and reKcmbling dwelling-houBCfl : 
H4.f '(imllv, tliu cirt'iiLtr tumuli, wliicli Litter are by far the meet numc- 
n>us and iiujK»rtant class. 

EiU'h of thoije imiv be agiiin subdivided into two kinds. The nnrk- 
cut tonilw include, firstly, tlniso ^\^th only a fii9ade on the face of the 
ri»ck, and a K-pulchral chamber ^^'ithin; secondly, those cut quite out 
4»f the r«K"k, and standing free all round. To thi« class probably once 
l)ek»ngeil an imnuiist' numl>er of tombs built in the ordinary' way; but 
all tlu'si' have totally disap^xsireil, and consequently tlie class, as now 
under ion. consists entirely of excavated examples. 

The Nei\»nd i-lass mav be diviile<l into those tumuli erected over 
chamlx'rs cut in the tufaceous nx'k which is f<.»und all over Etruria, and 
tlniM' which have chauiWrs built al)«>ve ground. 

In the pix'stut state «»f i»ur knowknlge it is im])ossible to say which 
of thcs*.' classes i^; the older. AN e know that the KgA'ptians buried in 
t-aw-s li»ng Kfore tlu- KtruM-ans landed in lUily, and at the same time 
raist-d pyramids o\\r r««kHUt and built cluimlH.'i'S. We know too tliat 
AbnihauL was buried in the c-ave of ^lachpcLih in Syria. On the other 
lumd. thet«»nibsat Smyrna (^wov^ih-ut No. 105^, the treasuries of Myceuaj, 
(w«Mnlrut No. 1I»;), the Mpulchre of Alyattes, (winxlc^t No. 107^, and 
many otlu'rs, are pnn.fs of the antiipiity of the tumuli, which are 
found all over Kurope anil Asia, and apjx^tr to have existeil frc»m the 
esirlii'st ages. 

The ivmimnitive antiipiity of the different kinds of tombs l)eiug thus 
doubtful, it will K' sutlicii-nt tor the purj^osi's of the present work to 
cLissify them an-hitrctuniUy. It may prt»Uibly be assiunc*il, with 
safety, tlmt all the m*»d«'s which have Kvn enumemted wei*e practised 
by the KtruM-ans at a ivrivKl very slightly suW^iuent to their migra- 
tion into Italv. 

C)f the fii*st cliiss *.»f tlu* nxk-cut tombs — thosi.» with merely a fa^de 
externally— the most remarkable gi-oup is that at Castle d'^Vsso. At 
this place theiv is a |H'r|H*ndiiular cliti* with hundreds of these tombs 
rangLHl along its faiv, like lu»nsi-s in a strei't. A similar arrangement 
is found in Kgypt at lieni HasNin, at Tetra, and Cyrene, and around aU 
the mon* ancient cities of Asia Minor. 

In Ktnirwi they gcni'nilly consist of one chamlx*r lightetl by the 
dotjrway only. Their internal arningiiiieut aj>p<.'jirs to be an imitation 
of a dwelling chamlvr, with furniture, like the ai>artment itself, cut 
t«it of the riK'k. Kxternally they liave little or no pretension to archi- 
tectunil dii\»nition. It is true that M>me tombs aiv found adome<l with 
frontispieces of a del>sised Doric or lonii* order; but these were cx- 
eeutod at a much later jK^riod, ami umler Konmu domination, and 

Bk. IV. Ch. I. 


eaninit tlierefore be taken as specimens of Etruscau art, byt rather 
of that corruption of style sure to arise from a conquered people, 
trj'ing to imitate the arte of their rulers. 

The general appearance of the second class of rock-cut tombs will 
be understood from the woodcut (No. 160), representing two monu- 
ments at Castcl d'Aseo. 
Unfortunftt«ly neither 
is complete, nor is there 
any complete example 
known t« exist of this 
class. Perhaps the apex 
was added atracturally; 
and that these, like all 
such things in Etruria, 
have perished. Pos- 
sibly, if cut in the rock, 
the terminals were 
slender carved orna- 
ments, and therefore 
liable to injury. They 
are usually restored by 
antiquaries in the shape 

of rectilinear pyramids, but there is no authority for this as for as I 
know. On the contrary, it is more in accordance with what we know 
of the style and its affinities to suppose that the termination of these 
monuments, even if added in masonry, was curvilinear. 

One remarkable thing ubout the rock cut tombs is the form of their 
mouldings, which differ from any found else- 
where in Europe. Two of these are shown 
in the annexed woodcut (No. ICl). They 
are very numerous and in great variety, but 
do not in any instance show the slightest 
trace of a cornice, nor of any tendency 
to one. On the contrary, in place of this, 
we find nothing but a reverse moulding. It 
ia probable that similar forms may be found 
in Asia Minor, while something resembling '*'■ *'™^"|^^^^^'™'" " 
them actually occurs at Pcrsepolis and else- 
where. It is remarkable that this feature did not penetrate to Rome, 
and that no trace of its inflnence is found there, as might have been 

■ Evun in more modem timei I know | Kavenno, This, bonever. in Etruscan 
of no buildiug iboitmg a trace of Ihcee both in form and detoii, as will be seen 
forms except the tumb of Theoduric at | (urther oii. 

2t\'2 Kl Krsi'AX ARCHITECTUllE. 1'art !. 


Tlif himplest ami therefort' ]X'rhaps the I'arliost monument whidi 
♦•Jill lie eri*eteil, by a iK^iple who revenaiw their depjirted relatives, 
ovtT tht* gnives of tlie ilejid, is a mound of i^rth or a cairn of atoneR, 
and such seems ti» have IxK'H tlie form adopted by the Tumuian or 
Tartar raci^s of mankind from the earliest (Liys to the pro«eiit hour, 
it i« ficaixx'lv ntxvsssirv' to remark how universal such monumentH were 
among the ruder triK-s of Northern Kurope. llie Etruscans improvttl 
uj>on this by sunxmndinjr the base w^ith a podium, or supporting wall 
of masonry. 'I'his not only defim*d itii limits and gave it dignity, but 
enabled t'Utnnux's to l>e made in it, and otherwise converted it from a 
mert* hilhuk into a monumental structure. It is usually suppiwed 
that this Iwsement wjvs an invariable jxirt of all Etruscan tumiili, 
and whi'U it is not found it is assununl that it hsis lx?en removed, or 
that it is buritil in the rubbisli (»f the mound. No doubt such a 
Ktonc Uisement nuiy easily have been removetl by the peasintry, or 
bunt.lL but it is bv no means ek^iir that tliis was invariably the case. 
It Mvms tliiit the lairlosun* was fn.H|uently a circle of stones or monu- 
mental steles, in the centre t.»f which the tumulus stood. The monu- 
ments hiive hitherto Utn s^i tirelessly exjimin*tl and restored, that it \» 
difficult t<» arrive at anything like certainty* with regjird to the details 
of their structuiv. Nor can we dniw anv tvrtain itmclusion from a 
comparison with other tumuli «»f iM«m;ite races. The dencription by 
Herodotus of the tomb of Alyattes at Siinlis (woodcut No. 107), those 
described by Pausanias as I'xisting in tlu' lVlo])onnesuR, and the 
appearances of tlK>se at Myii-na^ and Oreln uncnus, might be inter- 
prete<l either way: but thosi* at Smyrna (wouleut No. 105), and a 
great number at legist of tlu»M' in Etrnria, liave the circle of stones as 
a 8upiK»rting Ittsi* to the numnd. 

These tumuli an* found exiNtinix in immenst^ numlx^rs in everv 
uecroix»lis of Etruria. A lar^c sjijuv was ginenilly st»t a|iart for the 
purp(»se outsidf thr walls of nil tlu' gi*eat cities. In these c*emeterit*s 
the tumuli are arning»Ml in rows, like houw^s in stiit^ts. Even now we 
i«n C(»unt them by hundrids. and in the neighlK»urluH.xl of the hirgest 
cities — at Vulci, for instance— alnmst bv tlumsuids. 

Most of them arc now woni down bv the ettect of time to nesirlv 
the level of the groun<l. though soinr of the largt^r ones still retain an 
impwing api)«imnci'. Nearly all have l.>een ritled at some ejirly jx*riixl. 
though the treasures still disn»vi*red almost daily in some placi-s slmw 
how vast tlieir extent was, and how niuoh wm now ivmains to 1^ done 
liefore this vast mine of antiquity can W sjiid to K- rxhaustcNl. 

One of the most remarkable among tln»s»* that have Ikx-ii o^x^iied in 
modem times is at Cervetere, the ancient (Ven?, known as the Ki^gulini 
i tomb, from the names of its discoverers. 

Bk. IV. ch. r. 



Like a Nubian pyramid »r Buddhist bipo, it conRiNtH of an i 
older tnmuhis, aronud and over which another has boon added. 
outer mmmd are 5 tomlw cither of 
dependent or inferior perBonagea 
These wcro I'iflod long ago ; but the 
outer pyramid having ofibctuaily 
concealed the entrance to the pnn 
cipal tomb, it remained untouched 
till very lately, when it yielded to 
ita dittcoverers a richer euUoction of 
ornaments and utensils in gold and 
bronze tlian has ever been found in 
one place before. 

The dimcnHions and arrange 
racntfl of this tumulus will be under- 
Htood from woodcuts Noh. 162, 163, 
and from the two sectiniiH of the 

In the 

of Rvgulinl Ontrvai Tom 

principal tomb which are annexed to them Tlieoe last dihpla) m 
irrcgulant\ of eonatrucfion very unuhuil in such caRes for nliich no 
cauflc am bo axHi^ed The UGual flection is perfectly regular, as in the 
annexed wooilciit (\o 164) taken from another tomb at the name 

Thene chambers, like all those of the early Etruscans, are vaulted 



Part 1. 


on tliu III >ri/i>iitul priiicijile. like tliu tomltHut Myeente and Orchomennt), 
thuiigli uuiiL< iiiv foiiiiil in Itiily ut n)l e<[iial tii thuHe of Greeoe in 
dimoiisionN or Ixstutv of construction. 

A\ (XMlcut No 165 IS a t>prspoctivo view of the principal chamber in 

tho Hopilnii CJaleasHi toiiili sliowing thi' jHwition of tho furniture 

toiiiiil in it when firat ojteued, consisting of bien 

^^ • >r beilsteads, shields, arrows, and TesBele of varioiM 

^^^L - HortR. A numln-r of vases are hung in a cnrion* 

m^^^^ n-'i^xii in the rouf. tlio form of which would be in- 

^^^^^^ft ~ ciLphaiblo but for the utenailn found in it. AVith 

- -^^^^^^^E tliiH (.liie to itn meaning we can scarcely doubt 

^HHHH that it reprcflcntH n place for hanging such vcwtchi 

~~" in tho houses of thu living. 

'" T^tp" s* 'nT'' *' ^^ *'"* ti^ks'irf" f"und in this tomb are in 

thi oldcHt style of KtmrnTin art, and are so similar 
to the hrouKCM mid omanicutpi brought by l^yanl from Assyria as to 
l«ul to tho U'liif that they luid « common tirigin. The tomb, with 
its ctintcnts. probably dat«8 
from the 9th or 10th cen- 
tury before the Christian 

The largest tomb hither- 
to discovered in Etruria is 
now known as tho Cocn- 
mella, in the necropolis at 
A'ulci. It is rather more 
t)mn 240 ft. in diameter, 
and originally could not 
liavc been less than 115 or 
:| 120 ft. in height, though 
now it only ri»ea to 50 fL 

Near its centre are th« 
remains of two solid tow- 
ers, one circular, the other 
square, neither of them ao- 
tunlly central, nor are they 
placed in such a way that 
we can undenrtand how 
have formed a 
\v symmetrical 
E- of this monu- 

Tier (* prindp.1 Ctmnilirr (i 

,i™^[ r.,n.i,, tliey C«l 

design. A plan and a view of the present appeani 
nt are given in the woodcuts, Nos. U\6 and ll>7. 
litis tumulus, with its principil remaining features thus standing on 
t nde ctf the centre, may possibly iisuiMt us to understHnd the curious 

IlK. IV. Ch. 1. 



description fuunti in Pliny ' uf tht; tumb uf Poracnna This deecnptioi 

in quoted from VarTO, being eiidmtly regarded by Plinv himself a 

not a little apocryplial. Aaxirdiiifj to this nccgiint it ci>n8iBtod n 

a nquare basement 300 ft. 

oath way, from which aroBe 

5 pyramids, united at the 

Kummit by a bronze circle 

or cnpola. This was again 

tiurmount«d by 4 other 

pyramids, the summita <if 

which were again united 

at a height of 300 ft. from ' 

the ground. From this 

point rose still 5 more pjTa- 

mids, whose height Varro 

(from modesty, as I'liny 

surmises) omits to state, 

but which was estimated 

in Etruscan traditions at 

the same height as the rent 

of the mouumcut. This last statement, which docR not rest on any 

real authority, may well bo regarded aa oxnggoratt'd ; but if we take 

the total height as about 400 ft., it in cany to understand that in the 

age of Pliny, when all the buildings were hiw, such a structure, as 

high as the steeple at Snlinbury, would appear fabulous : but the vast 

piles that liave been erected by tomb- building races in other parts of 

the earth render it by no means jmprolnible that Varro was justifiwl in 

what he asserted,' 

Near the gate of Albano is found a small tomb of 5 pyramidal 
pillars rising from a square base, exactly corresponding with Varro's 
description of the lower part of the tomb of i'orsenna. It is called by 

' Plin. HiBL xisvi. 13. ! in designing ft nu-noraitnt in perfect ac- 

' A diBKTiiin U givsn in Ihe " True Prin- , cordance with tlie text. Wlicther the lotler 

ciples of Btnuty in Arl,' p. 459, nhicli ie to be dei>«ndec) upon or not is nnoihcr 

■howB Bt lenst Ihnt tliere is no difflrutlf i iiiutteT. 


trmlition thu tumb ..f AninM. tlic wni of Porsenna, thtnigli lie charactOT 
ut' the iiiiiiil<Uiig8 witli wUioli it in adunietl would lend lis to aiwigii to it 
It dinxititfi of II lofty |XKli«in, on whic-h are 
the centre bikI 4 smaller vnes at the 
HiigloK. Ita prosunt npi>atraiice is shown 
in the annexed woodcut (Xo. ItiS). 

There nre nut in Etntria any fcatureti 
Huflieieutly marked to chanujteriso a style 
of iirehitcc-turo, nor any pillars with their 
iicoLtworieH wliicL can be considered to oon- 
Htitiite an order. It in trae that in s(me 
of the niok-cut tomlw square piers support 
the roof; and in one or two inatanoes 
rimnded pillarn are found, but these are 
either without luinililingH or ornamented 
only with Koman detnJU. Itotmyinfr the 
liiteiuiw of their execution. The abeenee 
of htiilt r\an)]ileH of the olaHH of tomlxt 
fiiiind in llic I'oek prevents us from re- 
nijpiisiuji Huy of thfise peculiiiritie* of 
cot I Kt met ion which ROnietiiues are as cha- 
s worthy of attentitin as the more purely 


ractcriBtic of tlie utile and 
oniaiiiental jtirtri. 

From thi-ir i-Uy nates, their ;i(|U(ilucts ami l)ndf;;< 
the Ktniswms useii the twliatinn 

know tliut 

th fh-('i> vuussoirs and elegant 
inoiildings, at an <itrly agi-, 
tliving it that character of 
Ktmigth whii-h the K.imans 
iifterwunls iiiijsirted to their 
works of the KinieclaBJi. The 
('h.»oa Maxima of J{onie 
(wo.«lcut No. S'.">) must lie 
eiaisidcnil an a work exe- 
cuted under KtruKCiin super- 
intendence, an 


t«Ily. and to hav<- h.ul the sai 
cliaraetcviBed the (.Dgiiate I'elaKgiau rai 
Aipino (woiMleul No. I'.lii) is ahii.wl id 
(wiHHlnit X". 118). huf larger and nua'e 
xpeeimenH of the Kiiue elaw found in Ital; 

At the 


■ per- 

at TuKCului 

, sho 

time the 
KtruscaiiH UKe<1 the (loiiitetl 
aivh. eonstnieted horixiai- 
le iii-.tlih'cli<.n fur it which 
L- in tint-iv. A (piteway at 
■nticiil with that at 'Jiuaieus 
flegant: atid tliere are nuiny 
Tlie j[nirti<in of an aipiednet 
idcut No. 170, in a euriouM trHnwition Bpeci- 

Bk. IV. t-H. 1. 



men, where tlie two atom* meeting at tlit; apc-x (uwially called the 
Egyptian form, being the firrt utep towards the trne arch) are com- 
bined with a Bwbstnicturo 
iif horizontal converging 
mason n'. 

In either of these in- 
Htancea the horizontal arch 
in a Icfptimato mode of con- 
stniction, _ and may have 
l)oen used long after the 
principle of the radiating 
arch was known. The great 
convenience of the latter, 
as cnitbling largo Rpaces to 
be spanned even with brick 
or the Hniiillest stones, and i7d AignMinctDtTiHcnium. 

thns dispensing with the 

necessity for stones of very largo dimensiims, led ultimately to its 
universal adoption. Snbseqiientlj', when the [siinted fuim iif the mdi- 
ating arch was introdnced, mi motive remained for the retention of the 
horizontal method, and it was entirely abanilotied. 



K M E. 



We now approach the last revohition that completed and closed the 
great cycle of the arts and civilization of the ancient world. We have 
seen Ar^ spring Minorva-like j>erfect from the head of her great parent, 
in Egypt. We have admired it in Assyria, rich, varied, but unstable ; 
aiming at everything, but never attaining maturity or perfection. We 
have tried to trace the threads of early Pelasgic art in Asia, Greece, and 
Etmria, sprcjiding their influence over the world, and laying the foun- 
dation of other arts which the Pelasgi were incapable of developing. 
We have seen all these elements gatliered together in Greece, the 
essence; extracted from each, and the whole fonning the most perfect and 
beautiful combinations of intellectual power that the world has yet 
witnessed. We have now only to contemplate the last act in the great 
drama, the gorgeous but melancholy catastrophe by which all these 
styles of architx'Cture were collected in wild confusion in Bome, and 
there |X)ri8he<l beneath the luxury and crimes of that miglity people, 
who for a while made Home tlie capital of Euroixj. 

View them as we will, the arts of Kom(» were never an indigenous 
or natural production of the soil or jieoi)le, but an aggregation of foreign 
stvles in a st^ite of transition from the old and time-honoured forms of 
Pagan antiquity to the new development of the C^hristian era. We 
cannot of course supp(.)se that the Komans foresaw the result to which 
their amalgjimation of previous styles was tending, still they advanced 
as steadily towards that result as if a prophetic spirit had guided them 
to a well-defined C(>ncoi)tion of what was to be. It was not however 
permitted to the Romans to com]dete this task. Long before the ancient 
methods and ideas had lx»en completely moulded into the new, the 
power of liome sank boneatli her coiTU2)tion, and a long pause took 
place, during whidi the Christian arts did not advance beyond the 
point they had readied in the age of Constantine. Indeed in many 
rcHpects they receded from it during the dark ages. When they 
reappeared in the 10th and 11th centuries it was in an entirely new 
gparb, and with scarcely a trace of their origin —so distinct indeed that 
it appears more like a reinvention than a reproduction of forms long 


Kinue familiar to the Roman world. Had Kome retained her power 
and pre-eminence a century or two longer, a style might have been 
elaborated as distinct from that of the ancient world, and as complete 
in itself, as our pointed Gothic, and perhaps more beautiful. Such was 
not the destiny of the world; and what we have now to do is to 
examine this transition style as we find it in ancient Kome, and fami- 
liarise ourselves with the forms it took during the three centuries of its 
existence, as without this knowledge all the arts of the Gothic era would 
for ever remain an inexplicable mystery, llie chief value of the Roman 
style consists in the fact that it contains the germs of all that is found 
in the middle ages, and affords the key by which its mysteries may be 
unlocked, and its treasures rendered available. Had the transition been 
carried through in the hands of an art-loving and artistic jieople, the 
architectural beauties of Rome must have surpassed those of any other 
city in the world, for its buildings surpass in scale those of Egypt, 
and in variety those of Greece, while they affect to combine the 
beauties of both. In constructive ingenuity they far surpass anything 
the world had seen up to that time, but this cannot redeem offences 
against good ttiste, nor enable any Roman productions to command our 
admiration as works of art, or entitle them to rank as models to be 
followed either literally or in si)irit. 

During the first two centuries and a half of her existence, Rome 
was virtually an Etruscan city, wholly under Etruscan influence ; and 
during that period we read of temples and palaces being built, and of 
works of immense magnitude being undertaken for the embellishment 
of the city ; and we have even now more remains of kingly than we 
luive of consular Rome. 

After expelling her kings, and shaking off Etruscan influence, Rome 
existed as a republic for five centuries, and during this h^ng age of bar- 
barism she did nothing to advance science. Literature was almost 
wholly unknown within her walls, and not one monument has come 
down to our time, even by tradition, worthy of a city of a tenth part 
of her power and magnitude. There is probably no instance in the 
history of the world of a capitiil city existing so long, populous and 
l)eaceful at home, prosperous and i>owerful abroad, and at the same 
time so utterly devoid of any monuments or any magnificence to 
dignify her existence. 

When, however, Carthage was conquered and destroyed, when 
Greece was overrun and plundered, and Egypt, with her long-treasured 
art, had become a dependent province, Rome was no longer the city of 
the Romans, but the sole capital of the civilised world. Into her lap 
were poured all the artistic riches of the universe ; to Rome flocked all 
who hought a higher distinction or a more extended field for their 
ambition tlian their o\vn provincial capitiils could then aftord. She 
thus became the centre of all the arts and of all the science then known ; 

. ::, - :. • L- -..-- :.- .'. --« 1- • •:« ^njr-J. r^t- ftTU]tly rctleunied her 

.7- ... :..:..- - •: -:.-:.. I- ■*— tj-- j.t. rt]iij>si iudi>putabk* fact, tliat 

: -.:.j ":• ■. •— -:—..-■- ■: 'n- JL'L.'ir* iij-ro and larger buildingK 

V-:- • '- '-[ z. :. :.■■ . j 1 :-: j->.:.'j-:.: -.iTit^ tlmii ever "were erected 

} : •-:.-■-.- •■ : :• ::j- ---..."•.l.-i.uvi.": -j' thi- Koman Empire. pn»- 
j^---.- 1 -. 1- - ■ . • :. - :.' :j . .:i.r-.»^\—^ '* ■^.•iil^ri»ii. j'»iutMi to c\>mparative 
:-■-. ••. .:.! -• -..-- .!.!:*• ■.:..:. -..t-.-I ut -^i.-i iLt- tili'»rt?s of the Metliter- 
r.:. ■ :. .:...-- :•■ : •. :. • -.'.-j :...:■ ri.l r'r-i!*yK'riTy j^realer than had 
-. »■' ■•-L fL.. V.-:. •: ;. a! :L> .I::-::iii:*-l in tht' first centuries of 
:: - ' ' >■ .: •:■... T: jr- .::.-^* f :":.• iiii-.i- LiT wiTld was then full, 
. :_ :■ • - r-'^ ;:• ^... :._: :; ' j: rj--.* •ti'^ siyviiuli- than the Komau 

• : ■ • • ■_ .>■...■■■.-_■--: '. .7S..:''. :':.'. -.y.-^ ...f jijcinkind. Frum the 
■t,-."*> : :: ■ 1/ : ._: :— : : :. -sr : :':.- T .r"**^ • v.. n- i-itv vit-d with it*t 
.- !j:."« -.' _■_ *..• -. :v :: :. : :::_].—, '.t'lv. TL-.^iTn-s. and etlifioes fur 
; •--- : :--.-. .-.:..•-. 1:. ..". .-^-i — iLi^.-y^j diMtliiv far m<n\' 

• •' . . :. ■ : '^^ :■..::. .: ". '■*«": ::^.-_ : : i--:-. aii'l nfineim-nt, and all 
'W .' •:..■■- : :..: :. .^:- -. •: , . 'v:.:.:. •*•- iii-* iin>'mp.itiblo i\'itli 
T.-j- .::■■.:..•:■.:. :. : .:.-:..:. j :...: ir : • K- Tmly p\":iT. Notwith- 
^^l:. .':iij .11 :!'..*.::.:■ > 1 j-r-.-iTi--^'^ ::. :}jv nins^. a ^ra udeur in the 
'■:.■•::! :.. :.': . -::*■:. •\:t-.^>: :. : ]»w.r in all these Koni;iu 
r* u J 1 ^ :- » w : . : . ": . : . v .. r till : - : : . k ■:":.■ 'f •-. ": : 1 i»T wi tli awe, and funv 
.1 iu:!:-.:! :. :: :.. i.'.'^. I-.--] Iv ":> "■••. "r ;v.i:j::ji'iiT. lli*.^* quitlities, 

• ■•■jj-'i wi'i. ::.-. .-*•*■. !i:; :.^ :':.r. .::.,.:: tj... m-.-lvt-N u* ever\- brick 
.11. i . V. ry -T I--. :•:.:•. r '":.• ^v. :y ■: :i.-ii\ i!:>.->i>tiLly attractive. It 
•A.i* w'ri. i:i.]H :[,; Hi.,.- ••.,: :':.. .,:::•:.; w rli ^iirisht^I: it wa* in her 
'i ■:..'.•.'. i.»t:.»* ::.. :.. w .iL : < :.:>:;»:. w.r: '3 \v.,> All tliat wa^: 
;/j«-^i? i.'j il'..*r.-i: ■ ::; \% i^ j-iTh-. r* 1 ^^ ;:i.::: w^ilK. tii*<l, it is true, 
Ijj»'i :uj i.'i- \*.'i'-.i» !■ k:. :. w}.!- "i. w-.v ,-1: l.y liiv >w..Td uf tlrnsi* Uirlia- 
rJ;iT,-. ■■.:.'. j; ■ n]*:- 1 1" r tii* ii:v jv-^ ■■':: - 1 li.i. I'niirnunts that iNilitv and 
ti.'».^ ;^f?- \viii« jj w!li u-x: ««. ui'V • u: ;»TT. :iti'U. T'» Iionif all j>n*vionh 
Ijjrtwv TM.'i" : Ir-rjj ]i"iji«.- al] m "il. rii iii^T-'iv >i«riiiir>: to lier then^- 
i'/i* . ;iii'J t*i Ji- / .lit-. \i.- ill.'ly Turn, if n-'t T«» jidiiiin\ at lesist to 
J'-mii. :»ii<l. it jj'ii t«j*-. :iT ;iny r.iti;- T'» wi.-ndrr at. and t«» c«m- 
I'lJljiIatj- a jiliaw; of ;i|T as Ulikli-'WH !•• ]iI1-viitl1.s a^ ti« ^nb^^'<^lu■nt hls- 
liiiy, :iiid. if i^rojn ily iiij<1«i»Ti«-1. uii.n- n]»lit<- with in>tniclion tlwii 
any '#fh«r f"Mii liitlir-it.. l.-u.fwn. Th-'ii^h ihv K^suu wi* k-ani fmui 
it JN far ofN-fM-r \vlj:it t.i;ivi.iil iJiJiii wliat t«» t*'»ll«iw. .still thei\* is snch 
WfMiuffi fo Ih- ;;atlii /i<I ji'iin if as slmiiM ^iiidf us in the en ward ^mth, 
wliji-h fii:iy J<-;id 11 k t<; a Ui lii;;licr grad«' tiian it was givon to Konic 
hi'f'M'lf fvi'i' itt attain. 

Bk. IV. Cn. 111. ORIGIN OF STYLE. 271 




Oiigin of style — Tlie arch — Orders: Doric, Ionic, Corintliian, Composite —Temples 
The Pantheon — Roman temples at Athens — at Baaliaec. 




Foundation of Rome 

B.C. 753 

Titus — arch in Forum 


Tarqulnius l*ri8cu»— Cloaca Maxima, found- 

1 )e»tr\>ction (»f I^omjieii 


ation of Temple of Jupiter Capit<ilinuH . 


Trajan — L'lpian Ikisiliaiand I*illar of Victory 


Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus dedicated . 


Hadrian builds temple nt Rome. Temple of 

Scipio— tomb at Literium 


Jupiter Olympius at Atliens, &c. . 


Augustus — temples at Rome .... 


Septimius Sevenis — arch at Rome 


Maroellus — theatre at Romr— died . . . 


Caracalla — baths 


Agrippa — portico of Pantheon— -died . . 


I Hoclctian — palace at Spalatro .... 


Nero— burning and rebuilding of Rome — 

Maxentius — Basilica at Rome 



A.D. 63 

Constantino — transfer of E^ipire to Constan- 

Vespasian — Flavian Amphitheatre built . 



The earliest inliabitants of liome were an Aryan, or as they used to be 
called, Indo Germanic race who established themselves in a country 
previously occupied by Pelasgians. Their principal neighbour on one 
side was Etruria, a Pelasgian nation. On the other hand was Magna 
Grajcia, which had been colonised in very earl}^ ages by Hellenic 
settlers of kindred origin. It was therefore impossible that the archi- 
tecture of the Komans should not be in fiict a mixture of the styles of 
these two people. As a ti'ansition order, it was only a mechanical juxta- 
position of both styles, the real fusion taking place many long cen- 
turies afterwards. Throughout the Roman period the two styles remain 
distinct, and there is no great difficulty in referring almost every fea- 
ture in Koman architecture to its origin. 

From the Greeks were borrowed the rectangular peristylar temple, 
with its columns and horizontal architraves, though they seldom if ever 
used it in its perfect purity, the cella of the Greek temples not being 
sufficiently large for their purposes. The principal Etruscan temples, 
as we liave alrciidy shown, were square in plan, and the inner half 
<x;cu[)ied by one or more cells, to the sides and Ixick of which the 
portico never extended. The Roman rectangular temple is a mixture 
of these two : it is gencniUy, like the Greek examples, longer than it*< 
breadth, but the colonnade never seems to liave entirely surrounded the 
building. Sometimes it extends to the two sides as well as the front. 


but luuro guiienilly the (?ella occupies the whole of the inner part. 
thoiipfh frc<iuently ornamented by a fctlee peristyle of three-quarter 
colnnins attached to ita walls. 

IV^Nides thin, the Romans borrowed from the Etruscans a circular 
form of temple unkno\>Ti to the Greeks, but which to their tomb-build- 
ing predecessors must have been not only a &miliar but a favourite 
fonn. As applied by the Komans it was generally encircled by a peristyle 
of columns, though it is not clear that the Etruscans so used it ; this 
imiy tlierefore be an improvement adopted from the Greeks on an 
Etrusc^jin form. In early times those circular temples were dedicated 
to Vestii, Cybele, or some god or goddess either unknown or not gene- 
rally worshipped by the Aryan races ; but in latter times this dis- 
tinction was lost sight of. 

A more importiint characteristic which the Romans borrowed from 
the Etruscans was the circular arch. It wjuj known, it is true, to the 
Eg;V'ptiiins, Assyrians, and Greeks; yet none of these people, perhaps 
excepting the Assyriiins, seem to have usetl it as a feature in their 
oniamentiil arcliit<?cture ; but the Etrusctins appear to have had a pecu- 
liar j)reililectioH for it, and from them the Romans adopted it boldly, 
and intn)iluced it into almost all their buildings. It was not at first 
ustnl in temples of (Jrecian form, nor even in their peristylar circular 
ones. In the civil buildings of the Romans it was a universal feature, 
but was gencnilly place<l in juxtapoiition with the Grecian orders. In 
the Colosscjum, for instance, the whole construction is arched ; but a 
useless network of ill-designed and ill-jirninged Grecian columns, with 
their eutiiblatures, is spread over the whole. This is a curious instance 
of the mixture of the two styles, and as such is very characteristie of 
Roman ai-t ; but in an artistic jKniit of view the place of these columns 
would have l)een far l)etter supi)lied by buttresses or panels, or some 
exiKHlicnt more I'orrectly constructive. 

After having thoroughly familiarisetl themselves with the forms tif 
the arch as an archit<.H^tural feiiture, the Roimins mnde a bold stride in 
advance by ap))lying it as a vault both to the cii-cular and rectangular 
ft>rms t>f buihlings. The most jx»ifect examples of this are the Basilica 
of Maxentius, comnunily calUil the Temple of Teace, and the Rotunda 
of the Tantheon, the two K'ingf probably, not far distant in date. In 
these buildings the Roman aivhitects so comiJetely emancipated them- 
strives fn»m the trammels of former styles jw almost to entitle them to 
claim the invention of a new order of architcHiture. It would have 
required some more practice to invent details appropriate to the pur- 
pose ; still these two buildings are to this hour unsurpassed for bold- 
ness of conception and just appriK-nation of the manner in which the new 
method ought to be appliwl. This is almost universally acknowledged 
BO &r as the interior of the Tautheon is conceme<l. In simple grandeur 
it 10 as yet une<iualleil ; its faults Ix^ing principiUy tlu^sc of detail It is 

Bk. IV. Ch. U. orders. 273 

not HO eiiHy, howev<*r, to fonn an opinion of the Temple of Peace in 
it« present mined state; but in so far as we can judge from what 
yet remains of it, in boldness and majesty of conception it must have 
l)een quite equal to the other example, though it must have required 
far more familiarity with the style adopted to manage its design as 
appropriately a« the simpler dome of the Pantheon. 

The^^e two buildings may be considered as exemplifying the extent 
to which the Romans had progressed in the invention of a new style of 
architecture, and the state in which they left it to their successors. 
1 1 is worth remarking how, in transplanting Koman architecture to the 
new capital, the semi Oriental nation seized on its own circidar form, 
and, modif;y"iiig and moulding it to its purpose, wrought out the 
Byzantine style ; in which the dome is the great feature, almost to the 
total exclusion of tlie rectangular form with its intersecting vaults. 
On the other hand, the rectiiiigular form was appropriated by the 
Teutonic nations of the West with an equally distinct rejection of the 
circular and domical forms, except in those cases in which we find an 
Eastern people still incorporated with them. Thus in Italy both styles 
continued long in use, the one in biptisteries, the other in churches, 
but always kept distinct as in Eome. In Fmnce tliey were so com- 
pletely fused into each other that it requires considerable knowledge 
of architectural analysis to separate tliem ag*ain into their component 
parts. In England we rejected the circular fonn altogether, and so 
they did eventually in Germany, except when under French influence. 
Each race reclaimed its own among the spoils of Kome, and used it 
with the improvements it had acquired during its employment in the 
imi)erial city. 


llie first thing that strikes the student in attempting to classify the 
numerous examples of Koman architecture is the immense variety of 
purposes to which it is applied, as compared >vith previous styles. In 
Egypt architecture was apj)lied only in palaces and tombs. In Greece 
it was almost wholly confined to temples and theatres ; and in Etruria 
to tombs. It is in Rome that we first feel that we have not to deal 
with either a Theocracy or a kingdom, but with a great people, who for 
for the first time in the world's historv rendered architecture sub- 
servient to the myriad wants of the many-headed monster. It thus 
happens that in the Roman cities, in addition to temples, we find basi- 
licas, theatres and amphitheatres, baths, palaces, tombs, arches of 
triumph and pillars of victorj% gates, bridges, and aqueducts, all 
equally objects of architectural skill. The best of thebe, in laet, aie 
those which from previous neglect in other countries are stam^x^d NA-ith 
originality. These would have been noble works indeed had it not 
been that the Romans unsuccessfully applied to them those orders and 

VOL. I. I' 


Part I. 


wlji.-ll 1 


ilv.lkd Mut.iinil ttvn^ 
. ' In a littl.- win).- ll..> 
,ii,. w.,..M l.:.v,. lH-,..m 
MMik.'.!. t)>is lIM liol I 

It- iiitrtiileil tiily to bt- ii])pli«^ to 
i' tiiiii- of ( Vinxbintinc tlitwc onlent 
ly NulxTiUnatcIv nit«l fur docorative 
vouM liiiw dUtl out altDfiEcther. and 
I m-vr )iiid cotu^iletp (ityU- : bat. a« 
■ ]iliiiv, unil tUo mmt anck-nt ordent 

tli>-n-r>iv xtilt n-mxiii iiii t'>s.-iitiiit iNiri »f ItiimHii art. We find the old 
ordi-rri )>n-<liiiiiiiiiilin|; in tlic ap' "f .\upisliiM. imd hco tltem gradiiAllr 

rli.> lint iis w<- iijiinimi-li tli«l "f ('■■iisliinthii.'. 


.Vilii)itln;; till' usiiiil iliisitk^uiim. the fii-Ht nf tho liunmn <mlcrH m 
till- Ih.rir. iv]ii<-li, lik« cvm'thiiif; trlw in tliis style, takcB n plai.'p 
iilxnit liiilf-tviiy bfrwiin the Tnsiiiii wianlen )H((tK and the nobly xiniple 
unliv "f the (Iriiks. It im dmilit w;ik a jtrent iminiivemeiit ou the 
t'omi-T. Iml I'm- iii'iniiiin'iital {mi']H>iicit infinitely inferior to the latter. 
It iviis. IiiAv.-vii-. iiii-n.' tiuiniiiiciil'l'- : and fur fumnis nr iMm-t-yard>i. or 

. tl>n 



I Ik' 

ti aniide.s. it Wild better adapted than 
wvciiT (ini'k atyli', which, whett 
■mpliiynl, nut uiily bweu ahnost nil itii 
iity, bnt iKi-'cnieH laiov niitueaiiing 
ti tlieltimmn. Thi«fact was ajipaivntly 
igniscil ; fm- there in not, iw for iih 
iioivn.n;le]><irie femple throQgh- 
mt the ituniiiu world. It would in cou- 
n|n>'n<t' lie most nufiiir to inntitutc a 

[KinMin l>eIWLi-n a meii: Utilitarian 

it'iiji »mi\ only in i-ivil linililingH and au 

>i-ili-r whii'li the niiiMt relined artJslH in 

he worhl i-ivnt all their in^-nuity in 

ihiinfi the niiwt pi-ifi-et lieeiiiise it 

' d'-viitnl to the highcHt religitiiis pur- 

The iiihlitifin uf an indepi-ndent hwe 
]r the uiikr inneh nimx' gonorally uw?- 
I. and itK aduiitiiin hrwight it tuneh 
exifitin;; onlen*, which would 
.r its intnidnetion. The key- order: and an, fr\>ni the 
.iinj;s, the Itonmns were forced 
I- uAir tlie other, it was indin- 


nion^ into hiiinmny iviiJi t 

npiN-ar tu havi- U-en the jiri 

note of lioniiin an-hitivtarv 

m.-ceMHttie.t of their tall ni:ii 

to u«e the thiii' onh'i-s to;? 

jicnNnble that the tlm>e shonld U- nihutd to something like hammny. 

Thia was neeordin<;ly done, lint at ihi' exiH-nsc i,>f the Doric order, vrhich, 

excx>{it when tlina nwil in com bi nation, ninKt Ik> eonfesHed tu haw very 

little vluiiu to tnir adniimtion. 

Bk. IV. Cii. 111. 




Tho Romans were much more unfortunate in their modifications of 
the Ionic order than in those which they introduced into the Doric. 
They never seem to have either liked or understood it, nor to liavc em- 
ployed it except as a mezzo iermine between the other two. In its own 
native East this order had originally only been used in porticos be- 
tween piers or arUWy where of course only one face was shown, and 
there were no angles to be turned. When • 
the Greeks adopted it they used it in 
temples of Doric form, and in consequence 
were obliged to introduce a capital at each 
angle, with two voluted faces in juxta- 
I)Osition at right angles to one another. 
In some instances — internally at least— as 
at Bassa3 (woodcut No. 132) they used a 
capital with four faces. The Romans, im- 
patient of control, eagerly seized on this 
modification, but never quite got over the 
extreme difficulty of its employment. With 
them the angular volutes became mere 
horns, and even in the best exami)les the 
capital wants harmony and meaning. 

When used as a three-quarter column 
these alterations were not recjuired, and 
then the order resembled more its ori- 
ginal form ; but even in this state it was never equal to the Greek 
examples, and gradually deteriorated to the corrupt application of it in 
the Temple of Concord in the Forum, which is the most degenerate 
example of the order now to be found in Roman remains. 

17 J. 

Ionic Order. 



The fate of this order in the hands of the Romans was different 
from that of the other two. The Doric and Ionic orders had reached 
their acme of perfection in the hands of the Grecian artists, and seem 
to have become incapable of further improvement. The Corinthian, on 
the contrary, was a recent conception ; and although nothing can surpass 
the elegance and grace with which the Greeks adorned it, the new 
capital never acquired with them that fulness and strength so requisite 
to render it an appropriate architectural ornament. These were added to 
it by the Romans, or rather perhaps by Grecian artists acting under 
their direction, who thus, as shown in the woodcut No. XHi, pnKluced 
an order which for richness combined with proportion and architectural 

r 2 




fitncMi liiiH hardly been surpassed. 'ITie tase U clegnnt and apprt^riale : 
tlic sluift in (if the MiONt pk'nsing proportion, and the finting giveH it 
just the rtHjiiiNite di^mt of riL'hnewt and no more ; v^hile the capital, 
tlnnit;h iHinic-ring oii iivcr-omamfntation, is »o well arranged as to 

apiH^Hr j.i«t snitcil , ^.^.^ -■ -^am. ' - - - - 1 

to th,! work it Iws ^ V _ g^ I 

tud... Thi-niwx- 
tiius-kiivt's. it IK 
tnic, npproech tht 
vi'iT viTgi: iif that 
ili'(;rf<' cf dir».-ct imiiatimi 
nature wliich. though iillnw- 
iible in uichitecturul unia- 
monts. is SL-Idiini udvisiilile : 
thfv iiif. lioivfvi'r, diHi>)soO, 
HO "fonmilly, and fhciv rtill 
ri-mniiH so iiiu<-h that is 
conventional in llu>m, that, 
thtingh pi'rhn]iH not jiiBtly 
oix-n to critii-ipni on this ac- 
twiiit, thty are nivertlitlem 
a verv- extraue exnmi>le. 

The entiiLliituro is not so 
adininiblo an lhi> I'ulumn. The 
It is evident, huwevi'i", that 
thisarose from the arliht hav- 
ing eopiitl ill carving what 
tlw; (Jifeks had <nily iBiiutiil, 
and theR'liy pixilut 
plexitv far fii>in jileasiiig. 

m- frieze, as we now iind 
it.isiieifei'llyplaiii: hut this 
undoubleilly wan not t)ie iiiho 
when originally eivetcd. It 
cither must haveld-en ]iiiinted 
(inwhieh ease the wholuoi-der 
of coui-sc n-a.H also piiinted), 
or oniamciited witli senilis or 
figures in In-on?.o. whieli may 
proWbly have b<.en gilt. '"■ ''•"""'"-' ^•'•■'- K™.a.^''«-Pie.rfj„p.^s«,. 

The eomieu is perlmps ojK'n to the same criticism as the archi- 
trave, of being over-rieh, though this evidently arose from the aune 
iz., repriHlxicing in wiwing what was originally only paint«d ; 

which to our northern eves at least 

appoars i 

' appropriate fiw 

Bk. IV. Ch. IU. orders. 277 

internal than for external decoration, though, under the purer skies 
where it was introduced and used, this remark may be hardly 

The order of the portico of the Pantheon is, according to our notions, 
a nobler specimen of what an external pillar should be than that of 
the Temple of Jupiter Stator. The shafts are of one block, unfluted ; 
the capital plainer ; and the whole entablature, though as correctly 
proportional, is far less ornamented, and more suited to the greater 
simplicity of the whole. 

The order of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina is another 
example intermediate between these two. The columns are in this 
instance very similar to those of the Pantheon, and the architrave is 
plain. The frieze, however, is ornamented with more taste than any 
other in Rome, and is a very pleasing example of those conventional 
representations of plants and animals which are so well suited to archi- 
tectural purposes — more like Nature than those of the Greeks, but still 
avoiding direct imitation sufficiently to escape the affectation of pre- 
tending to appear what it is not and cannot be. 

The Maison Carree at Nimes presents an example of a frieze orna- 
mented with exquisite taste, while at Baalbec, and in some other ex- 
amples, we have them so over-ornamented that the effect is far more 
offensive, from utter want of repose, tlian the baldness of the frieze in 
the Temple of Jupiter Stator ever can be. 

Besides these there are at least 50 varieties of Corinthian capitals 
to be found, either in Rome or in vai ious parts of the Roman Empire, 
all executed within the three centuries during which Rome continued 
to be the Imperial city. Some of them are remarkable for that elegant 
simplicity which so evidently betrays the hand of a Grecian artist, 
while others again show a lavish exuberance of ornament which is but 
too characteristic of Roman art in general. Many, however, contain 
the germs of something better than was accomplished in that age ; and 
a collection of them would afford more useful suggestions for designing 
capitals than have yet been available to modern artists. 

CoMPOSiTK Order. 

Among their various attempts to improve the order which has just 
been described, the Romans hit upon one which is extremely charac- 
teristic of their whole style of art. This is known by the distinguish- 
ing name of the Composite order, though virtually it is more like the 
typical examples of the Corinthian order than many of those classed 
under the latter denomination. 

The greatest defect of the Corinthian capital is the weakness of the 
small volutes supporting the angles of the abacus. A true artist 
would have remedied this by adding to their strength, and carrying 







up the fulnuHs of (he capital to tlic top. llie Romane removed the 
whole of thi? upper part, and mihetituted an louio capital inateod. 
ITieir (inly original idea, if it may be to 
called, in art, was that of the putting two 
diRHimilar things bother to make one 
which uhould i-ombinc the beautiea of both, 
though aa a rule tho one generally servei 
to destroy the other. In the Compcmte 
capital they never could hide the junction : 
mid comnt-quently, though rich and in some 
rfNjNX'ts an improvement on the order oat 
of which it grew, this capital never came 
into general ubc, and has seldom found 
favour except amongHt the blindest ad- 
luirent of all that tho Komans did. 

In the latter diiya of tho Empire the Ro- 
aiia attempted another innovation whidi 
promiMu^l far better success, and with very 
littli^ nioroclaljoratiou would have been a 
great gain to the principles of architectural 
design. This was the introduction of the Torsian or Assyrian base, 
niixlified to suit the details of the Corinthian or Composite ordera. 
If they had always xaei 
this inutcad of the square 
pedestals on which they 
mounted thoir columns, 
and had attfrnuated the 
pitkirs slightly when used 
with arcades, they would 
have avoided many of the 
errors they fell into. Thi« 
application, however, came 
too late to be gvnerelly 
ii(K.-d : and the forma al- 
Vfjuly introduce*! conti- 
nued to prevail. At the 
Kitme time it is evident 
that a Persopolitan base 
_ for an Ionic and even for* 
Corinthian column would 
lio amongttt the greatest 
-specially for internal ardii- 

l)i. Ciiriullilin Blue, 

inipi'ovcmentH tlmt c 

LI Id be introdiici'd. 

Bk. IV. Ch. III. 



Composite Arcadks. 

The true Koman order, however, was not any of these columnar 
ordinances we have been enumerating, but an arrangement of 2 pillars 
placed at a distance from one another nearly equal to their own height, 
and having a very long entablature, which in consequence required to 
be supported in the centre by an arch springing from piers. This, as 
will be seen from the annexed woodcut, was in fact merely a screen of 
Grecian architecture placed in front of a construction of Etruscan de- 
sign. Though not without a certain 
richness of effect, still, as used by the 
Eomans, these two systems remain too 
distinctly dissimilar for the result to 
be pleasing, and their use necessitated 
certain supplemental arrangements by 
no means agieeable. In the first place, 
the columns had to be mounted on 
pedestals, or otherwise an entablature 
proportional to their size would have 
been too heavy and too important for 
a thing so useless and so avowedly a 
mere ornament. A projecting key- stone 
was also introduced into the arch. 
This was unobjectionable in itself, but, 

when projecting so far as to do the duty of an intermediate capital, it 
overpowered the arch without being equal to the work required of it. 

The Romans used these arcades with all the 15 orders, frequently 
one over the other, and tried various expedients to harmonise the con- 
struction with the ornamentation, but without much effect. They seem 
always to have felt the discordance as a blemish, and at last got rid of 
it, but whether they did so in the best way is not quite clear. The 
most obvious mode of effecting this would no doubt have been by 
omitting the pillars altogether, bending the architrave, as is usually 
done, round the arch, and then inserting the frieze and cornices into the 
wall, using them as a string-course. A slight degree of practice would 
soon have enabled them — by panelling the pier, cutting off its angles, or 
some such expedient — to have obtained the degree of lightness or of 
ornament they required, and so really to have invented a new order. 

This, however, was not the course that the Romans pursued. What 
they did was to remove the pier altogether, and io substitute for it 
the pillar taken down from its pedestal. This of course was not 
effected at once, but was the result of many trials and expedients. One 
of the earliest of these is observed in the Ionic Temple of Concord 
before alluded to, in which a concealed arch is thrown from the head 
of each pillar, but above the entablature, so as to take the whole weight 


Doric Arcade. 


of the Buporetructnre from off the cornice between the pillarB. W hen 
once thin whs done it was perceived that so deep an entablature wb8 no 
longer rcf|iiire(l. and that it might be either wholly omitted, as wwt 
nomctimea done, in the centre intercolumniation. or very much reduced. 
There ifl an old temple at Taliivera in Si>aiii. which is a good example 
of the former expedient ; and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built 
by Conetantine at Jeniiialem, i« a remarkable instance of the latter, 
lliere the architrave in cut otl so as merely to form a block over each 
of the pillars, anil the frieze and comii--e only are carried across from 
one of tlieHC blocks to the other, while a bold arch is thrown from pillar 
to pillar over these, so as to take any weight from off a member which 
has at last become a mere ornamental part of the style. 

In I>iiK'Ielian*H n-ign we find all these changes already introduced 
into domeKtic areliitLvtm-e, as shown in wooilait Xo, 177, representing 
the great court of his {talace at Spalatro, where at one end the enta- 
blature is bent into the funii of an arch for the centnil intercolumniation, 
while at the sidew the arehi's spring directlv from the mpitals of the 

Had the Itoraans at this jMiitMl liecii umi-e desirous to improve 
their external architecture, there is little duubt that they would have 
adopted the eKjM;dient of omitting llie I'utii-e eulablature ; but at this 
time almost all their efforts were devoted to internal improvement and 

■ It lias rvcvntly bocoiae tlie rnsliioii tii h[>oU (lie ii^hiil' SpnlHto or SpeUto. Tlw 
mode of vriting it adr^ttil in tliiH wiirk is lluit lUFd \>y Adiiiu^ nliicli hu cooBequentlj 
hecome cluairiil among nruhiteotM. 

Bk. IV. Ch. it. 



not unfrequently at the expense of the exterior. Indeed the whole 
history of Koman art, from the time of Augustus to that of Constantine, 
is a transition from the external architecture of the Greeks to the 
internal embellishment of the Christians. At first we see the cells of 
the temple gradually enlarged at the expense of the peristyle, and 
finally, as in the Pantheon, entirely overpowering them. Their 
basilicas and halls become more important than their porticos, and the 
exterior is in almost every instance sacrificed to internal arrangements. 
For an interior, an arch resting on a circular column is obviously for 
more appropriate than one resting on a pier. Externally, on the con- 
trary, the square pier is most suitable, because a pillar cannot support 
a wall of sufficient thickness. This defect was not remedied until the 
Gothic architects devised the plan of coupling two or more pillars 
together ; but this point had not been reached at the time, when with 
the fall of Rome all progress in art was effectually checked for a time. 


There is perhaps nothing that strikes the inquirer into the archi- 
tectural history of Rome more than the extreme insignificance of her 
temples, as compared with the other buildings of the Imperial city, 
and with some temples found in the provinces. The only temple which 
remains at all worthy of such a capital is the Pantheon. All others 
are now mere fragments, from which we can with difficulty restore even 
the plans of the buildings, far less judge of their effect. We have 
now no means of forming an opinion of the great national temple of 
the Capitoline Jove, no trace of it, nor any intelligible description, 
having been preserved to the present time. Its having been of Etruscan 
origin, which retained it« original form to the latest day, would lead 
us to suppose that the temple itself was small, and that its mag- 
nificence, if any, was confined to the enclosure and to the substructure, 
which may have been immense. 

Of the Augustan age we have nothing but the remains of three 
temples, each consisting of only three columns ; and the excavations 
that have been made around theni have not sufficed to make even 
their plans tolerably clear. 

'i'he most remarkable was that of Jupiter Stator in the Forum, the 
beautiful details of which have been already alluded to and described. 
This temple was octastyle in front. It was raised on a stylobate 22 ft. 
in height, the extreme width of which was 98 ft., and this corresponds 
as closely as possible with 100 Roman ft. The angular columns were 
85 ft. from centre to centre. The height of the pillars was 48 ft., and 
that of the entablature 12 ft. 6 in.' It is probable that the whole 

* These dimeimions, with all those that 
follow, unless otherwise specified, are taken 
firom Taylor and Creasy's ' Architectmal 

Antiqolties of Rome/ London, 1 821 . They 
seem more to be depended upon than any 
others I am acquainted with. 




height to the apex of the pediment was nearly equal to the extreme 
width, and that it was designed to be so. 

Tlie pillars certainly extended on both flanks, and the temple is 
generally restored as peristylar, but apjmrently without any authority. 
From the analogy of the other temples it seems more probable that 
there were not more tlian 8 or 10 pillars on each side, and that the 
apse of the cella formed the termination opposite the portico. 

The temple nearest to this in situation and atyle is tlttt of Jupiter 
Tonans.' The order in this instuioe is of slightly inferior dimensions 
to that of the temple just described, and of very inferior execution. 
The temple too was very much smaller, having only 6 columns in 
front, and from its situation it could not well have had more than that 
number on the flanks, so that its extreme dimensions were probably 
about 70 ft. by 85. 

The third is the Temple of Mars Ultor, of which a plan is annexed ; 
for though now as completely decayed as the other two, in the time of 

Ant. Sabacco and Palladio there seem to 
liHve been sufficient remains to justify an 
attempt at restoration. As will be seen, 
it is nearly square in plan (1 12 ft. by 120)^ 
The cella is here a much more important 
l)art than is usual in Greek temples, and 
terminates in an apse^ which afterwards 
became characteristic of all places of wor- 
ship. Behind the cella, and on each side, 
was a lofty screen of walls and arches. 
pirt of which still remain, and there cer- 
tainly fonn quite a new adjunct to any- 
thing hitherto met with in a temple fonn. 
The next class of temples, called pseudo-peripteral (or those in 
which the cella occupies the wIkjIc of the after part), are generally 
more modem, certainly more comi>letely Koman, than these last. One 
of the l)est specimens at Rome is the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, 
a small building measuring 72 ft. by 120. There is also a very elegant 
little Tonic temi)le of this class called that of Fortuna Virilis ; while the 
Ionic Temple of Ooncr>rd. built by Vespisian, and above aUuded to, 
appears also to have been of this class. So wtis the temple in the forum 
at Pompeii ; but the finest sjXK;imen now remaining to us is the so called 
Maison Carree at Xfmes, which is indeed one of the most el^ant 
temples of tlie Koman world, owing prohibly a great deal of its beauty 

17R. Temple of Mam Ultor. From 
Creasy's Rome. 
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. 

* Tbeso two temples, like almwt all the Stator is decreed to have been a Temple 
othera of Rome, liave recently been re- of Minerva. I have preferred the names 
named bj the Roman or rather German by which they are currently known, as the 
antiquaries. The Jupiter Tonans \b now ' architecture is of more importanoo here 
the Temple of Saturn, and the Jupiter I tlian the archipology. 

Bk. IV. Ch. III. 



179. rianofMaiiioaOArr£e 
at Ntmes. 
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. 

to the taste of the Grecian colonists long settled in its neighbourhood. 

It is hexastyle, with 1 1 columns in the flanks, 3 of which stand free, 

and belong to the portico; the remaining 8 are 

attached to the walls of the cella. The temple is 

small, only 45 it. by 85 ; but such is the beauty 

of its proportions and the ekgisoe of its details 

that it strikes every beholder with adnuratixM. 

The date of this temple has not been satis- 
fectorily ascertained. From the nail-holes of the 
inscription on the frieze it has been attempted to 
make out the names of Caius and Lucius Csesar, 
and there is nothing in the style of its architecture 
to contradict this hypothesis. Even if the build- 
ings in the capital were such as to render this date ambiguous, it would 
scarcely bo safe to apply any argument derived from them to a pro- 
vincial example erected in the midst of a Grecian colony. But they 
are not, otherwise we might almost be inclined to fency its style 
represented the age of Trajan. 

The Temple of Diana in the same city is another edifice of singular 
beauty of detail, and interesting from the pecu- 
liarity of its plan. Exclusive of the portico it is 
nearly square, 70 ft. by ()5, and is divided into 
three aisles, which are all covered with ribbed 
stone vaults of a larger and bolder design in de- 
tail than those of Gothic fonn, and singularly 
interesting as the origin of much that we find after- 
wards. There are some of the arrangements of this 
building which in its ruined state it is difficult to 
understand, but these are not important. 

Throughout this building the details of the architecture are unsur- 
passed for variety and el^ance by anything found in the metropolis, and 
are applied here with a freedom and elegance bespeaking the presence 
of a Grecian mind even in this remote corner of the empire. Another 
interesting feature is the porch. This was supported by four slender 
columns of singularly elegant design, but placed so widely apart 
that they could not have canied a stone entablature. It is difficult 
to guess what could have been the form of the wooden ones; but a 
mortice which still exists in the walls of the temple shows that it 
must have been 8 or 10 feet deep, and therefore probably of Etniscan 
form (woodcut No. 181); though it may have assumed a circular 
arched form between the pillars. 

Another peculiarity is, that the light was introduced over the 
portico by a great semicircular window, as is done in the Buddhist 
caves in India ; and so &r as I know, is the most perfect mode of light- 
ing the interior of a temple which has yet been discovered. 

180. Plan of Temple of 

Diana at Nlmes. 

Scale 100 ft to 1 in. 


Not far fniiii t\n- ('uliis.-!tiiiii. in the dinftioii "f the fonim. are 
still to be Hwn the rcniiiiiiK of ii jjrcftt double temple built liy the 
Emperor Iladriitn, nml •lixliiiilci] to Venus iiud Itoiiit.'. nuit coiutiittiDg 
of tho niins of its 2 eill«. i-M-h iil-nt TO ft. sqimif. i-overed with 
tiinncI-v»)iltH. jiiiil iiliiwil liiR'k to Itick. sn iluit Their ii])noM touch oue 
aiiotliei". Thi-H- stiuul i.n ii |.hitfunii 4tl(r ft. li.nj; by ;i;[rt widt'; and 
it iHgwieniUy suppiwifd thjit mi tlio edgo nf thin once utood 5(i gratt 
oolunmij, (>j ft. in liiiKht, thus uioulding the whole into one great 
periptcnil tiinjilc. Sum' fnigiuints i<i wuh pilliiro «rc said to lie 

(■igli1x>iirh'Kid. but not ( 


bntie ID 

other buildings. This part, llieiy-fnie. of the nri 
blomaticnl. iiud I sbimld \k- iiillur iiitlined to 
and the dlder arihitcctH have douc. with a 
(NilumnB in front of each of the itHs, If wc i 
of this temple to have been ri^ally jK.Tiptenil, 
have been a building worthy of the inijK 
ficence of the emperor Ifi whom itw eitrtiii 
More perfect and more intei-esting than 

ins lie traced to any 
ngemeiit is very pro- 
■estore it, as Palladio 
nrridor of ton sntall 
'uld aswume the plan 
!»s Bupposed, it must 

. city, and of the niagni- 


I" of these is the Pantheon. 

which is undoubtedly one of the finest temples of the ancient world. 
Externally its effect is vcri- miicli destroyed by itw two partu the circular 
and the rectangular, being so dissimilar in style nnd so incongruouiily 

15k. IV. Cu. III. 



Id'i. PlanofPantluH^natKome. Scale 100 ft to 1 iu. 

joined together. The portico especially, in itself the finest which 
Komo exhibits, is very much injured by being prefixed to a mass which 
overpowers it and does not harmo- 
nise with any of its lines. The 
pitch, too, of its pediment is perhaps 
somewhat too high, but, notwith- 
standing all this, its 16 columns, 
the shaft of each composed of a 
single block, and the simple gran- 
deur of the details, render it per- 
haps the most satisfactory example 
of its class. 

The pillars are disposed in the 
Eti-uscan fashion, and it is probable 
that they originally formed the 
portico to a 3-celled temple. The 
portico, as we know, not only from 
the inscription, but from the style, 
belongs to the age of Augustus, and 
it is generally supposed that it wa« 
added by Agrippa to the pre-existing rotunda. I feel convinced that the 
contrary was the case, and that the rotunda is very much more modem 
than the portico. We know from history that the building was fre- 
quently damaged by fire, that it was first restored by Hadrian, and after- 
wards, according to an inscription still existing on its portico, that it was 
repaired, if not rebuilt by Marcus Aurelius and Septimius Severus. The 
inscription expressly says it was i*estored because it was ruined from age 
(vetustate consumi)tum).^ A building that shows no sign of decay after 
17 centuries of neglect and spoliation, could hardly have fallen to decay 
in less than two hundred years of honoured occui)ation. it is therefore 
natural to conclude that the present building is not that alluded to, and 
that the original cella was of the usual jscjuare Etrusciin form, and 
probably contained a great deal of wood in its construction, like all 
temples of that class, which necessarily exposed it to accidents by fire 
as well as to decay, neither of which is proved to have been incident to 
the existing building. Indeed, taking all the circumstances of the case 
into consideration, it seems to be more reasonable to argue that the 
rotunda was built under the Tarquins than during the reign of 
Augustus. We know, however, of no attempt at vaulting on any- 
thing like such a scale as this in the Augustan age, during which time 
the temples all affected the Greek peristylar form. Thenceforward 
the cells were gradually enlarged, and gradually, too, the exterior was 




sacrificed to the ifittrior, which charactcristicit anj here carried to 
oxceRS. BesiilcB this, the iimsiinrj- "f tlie rotunda u» fnll of constiuctrve 
diiicharging-urchefi. and sluuvs other jie^-uliaritica of the lat«Bt age. 
All thoM! coiiniiloratioiiH [lut ti^tlicr would rather lead to a coHTio- 
tiou that t)ic Iiiiililin}:; datoH alniiMt b» Into an the age of ConHtantine ; 
but as no record of any retitoratiun 80 recently aa that has yet cxtme to 
light, we mtiHt for tlie prcttcnt at leaat be content to aHmmc its erection 
iu the age of Aurelian or of Septimins Severns. 

Internally perhaps the greatcKt deft*t of the building ia a want of 
height in the perpendicular part, which the dome appears to overpower 
and cnuh. This luiatake iu a^cgiuvnted by thia lower part being cnt 
op into two atoreys, an attic beiiin placed over the lower order. The 
fbnner defect may have arinen fiitiu the architect wishing tu keep the 
ynXk in some proportion to the i>ortii.i). The latter ia a peculiarity 
(rf the age in which I suppose this temple to have been erected, when 
two or more storeys seem to have iK-cfnuc iIldi^pcn8able requisitea of 
arohitectutal design. \\'c muxt aticnbe uW to the practice of the age 
Hk method of cutting through the entablature by the arches of the 
-great niches, as shown in the sectional [lart of the last woodcuL It 
Imm already been pointed out that thiti was becoming u characteriittic 
of die st^le at the time when tho circular part of this temple appears 
■dblutTe been erected. 

. IV. Ch. III. 


Notwithstanding these defects and many others of detail that might 
be mentioned, there is a grandenr and a simplicity in the proportions 
of this great t«mple that render it still one of the very finest and most 
sublime interiors in the world, and the dimensions of its dome, 145 ft. 
ti in. span by 147 in height, have not yot been surpassed by any subse- 
qnent erection. Though it is deprived of its bronze covering and of 
tbe greater part cf those omamente on which it mainly depended for 
e^ct, and though these have been replaced by tawdry and incongruous 
modernisms, still nothing can destroy the effect of a design so vast and 
of a form so simply grand. It possesses moreover one other element 
of architectural sublimity in having a single window, and that placed 
high up in the building. I know of no otlicr temples which possess 
this feature except the great rock-cut Buddhist basilicas of India. In 
them the light is introduced even more artistically than here ; but, 
nevertheless, that one great eye opening wpou heaven is by fer the 
noblest conception for lighting a building to be found in Kurope. 

Besides this great rotunda there are two other circular temples 
in or near Rome. The one, at Tivoli, shovra 
in plan and elevation in the annexed wood- 
cuts (Nob. 184 and 185}, has long been 
known and admired ; the other, near the 
mouth of the Cloaca Maxima, has a cell sur- 
rounded by 20 Corinthian columns of singu- 
larly slender proportions. Both these pro- 
bably stand on Etruscan sites, they certainly 
are Etruscan in form, and arc very likely 
sacred to Pelasgic deities, either Vesta or 

Both in dimensions and design they form 
a perfect contrast to the Pantheon, as might 
be expected from their both belonging to the 
Augustan age of art : consequently the cella 
U small, its interior is unomamentcd, and 
all the art and expense is lavished on the external features, especially 
on the peristj-lo ; showing more strongly than even the rectangular 
temple the still remaining predominance of Grecian taste, which had 
disappeared before the erection of the Pantheon. 

It is to be regretted that the exact date of both these temples is 
unknown, for, as that at Tivoli shows the stoutest example of a 
Corinthian column known, and that in Rome the slenderest, it might 
lead to some imjwrtant deductions if we could be certain which was 
the older of the two. It may be, however, that this difference of style 
has no connexion with the relative age of the two buildings, but that 
it is merely an instance of the good tasto of the age to which they 
belong. The Roman example, being placed in a low and flat situation, 

uTii-Dii. SciifSD 



requin-d hH tin.' 1ioi);lit that i-uuld be given it ; tliat at TivoU, being 

]i1ii(ahI (in tlio (hI^' of A rock, required ait much solidity as the order 

would aduiit of to jirerent its looking poor and insecure. A Gothic 

ireliitect would certainly have made this distinction. 

V stop tuwurdx the modem ntyle of round temples yrau 

• tlie fall of the Western Empire, in the temple which 

Uicicletian built in his palace at Spa- 

lutro. hitcmslly the temple is circuUr. 

l.'.-^ fl. ill diameter, and the height to the 

dome, or jwriX'udicuUr part, is about 

(.''{iial lo its width. This is a much 

mure pleasing proportion than we find 

in the IVntlieoii, perhaps the very best 

that has yet Ix'en employed. Exter- 

luilly the building is an octagon, mr- 

Rrtiiideil by a low dwarf peristole, TCiy 

unlike tlmt employed in the older ex- 

umph-H. ThiH augularily is oertainlv 

ii great impruvtmciit, giving exprw- 

bion and character to the building, and 

affonliiig Hat faces fur the entnincea or 

<k^t^n.«i.«n-f,.ii..:,o.a,..^. jxirches : but the peristyle is too low, 

and mars the l^igllit^■ of the whole.' 
To UM its priiiL'i[ial iiiterecit coiiisistH in itH Ix-iug so extremely Kimilar 
to the Christian baptiHteries wliich were erccti-il in the foUowing centu- 
ries, and whieli were eopiew, lint very slifthtly altered, from buildings 
of this elusK. 

I)iucktlui'> l^lKl- At S|flllll 

Even Hiuiuming tliiit lludriuii enmplelctl the great temple of Venus 
and Home in the iiiiinucr geneiiilly siipjMiM.'d, it must have been verj' 
far anrpHhsed hv the i;ii5it teniplf of Jupiter Olynipius at Athens, 
which, th"Ut:h piiihiibly not Liitirely eii-cti-d, wan certainly finished, by 
thjit eiuixrur, it was dii«styli' in frcmt, witli » double range <tf 20 
colnmnK on each Hank, w that it (.-••iM not well have had less than 
120 ci'ltimiipi, all aliout ■'»* It. in height, and of the most elegant 
Corinthian order, prcwntiiig altngctluT a grou]> of far greater mag- 
nificence than uiiy other t<,'m]>le we are ac<{Uiiinted ^vith of its claw 
in the ancient wurlil. ItM linciil dimeiiMioiiK alNO, us may be seen 
from the plan (wiKHlcnt No. 147), were unrivalled, as it was 171 ft, 
wide by 3.">4 in lenplli, or, nearly siiuiliir to those of the great 
HypOBtylo Uall at Kunuic. from, liowc\-tr, it differs most mate- 

t known to wliat deity 

Bk. m. 

riftlly, that being a beautiful sample of an interior, this depending for 
all ite magnificenco on the external arrangement ' of its cohimnH. 
Nothing now remaina from which to restore ite internal arrangement 
with anything like eertainty ; but it appears probable that the outer 
part of the cella-waa arranged as a i^eristylar court oi>en in the centre, 
probably of two storeys, so as to admit light into the interior. This 
arrangement became so conuuon iu the early Christian world that there 
must have been some precedent for it which, in addition to other 
reasons,' strongly incline me to believe that the arrangement shown in 
the plan is correct. 

The temples of Palmyra and Kangovar have been already men- 
tioned in speaking of that of Jerusalem, to which class they seem to 
belong in their general arrangementa, though their details arc l>orrowed 
from Soman architecture, ^his, however, is not the case with the 
temples at Baalbcc, which, taken together and with tJieir iiconmiiani- 
ments, form the most magnificent temple gnmp now left to us of thoir 
class and age. The great temple, if completed (which, however, it 
probably never was), would have been about 160 ft. by 290, and there- 
fore only inferior to that of Jupiter Olympiua at Athen.s. Only nine 
of its colossal columns arc now standing, but the bases of most of the 
others are i» gita. Scarcely less magnificent than the temple itself was 

n Art,' p. 392, where the teoaons for this aimnge- 


liOM.VX AliCIllTECmiE. 

ll»- mnrf in wlii<-li it nhx-l. iiIhivc :tftii ft. Rqiiarc. n 
tlini- Kidis liy nit-KwiI jxirtiiiin of iniwt i-xnlx-nint riilini'sn, tli<m};1i in 
]xTh»}i.i mtluT iiiifNtioiiiiMo liuiti-. In fnxit i-f tliiw wii« n ht-xstp-iuil 
iMint of viTv givat ln-Jiuty, with a iioblo ix>rtii.'o of 12 Coriiithiuii 
t-«liiiii]iK. with two Ki|iiart.' lilrx-kK »if luammrt' nr 
(■jioli i;ii(l. The whulc i.'xteiit (if the jxirtici) i« 
L'll" ft., iiiiil iif its kinil it i« piThajw imriyjtllt'il, 
(vrtfiinly niuimg thi:> buililinf^ of no Lite a dat.- 
iis the perioil to wliich it U-lonps. 

Tho otlior, OT smallor tomiile, stuniLt t'littio tii 
thv liii^T. Its tlijiieusii<n«, to tliv tb^iial s(»lc. 
aw (ilmwu in tlie pljin (woixlcHt Xo. 188). It 
i« Iiir{;?.r than any of the lioman jturiptoral 
ti-mpk-s, U'ing 117 ft. by 227 ft., or nithvr os- 
o>Tiling Ihi' ilinRiiNtons of thi- rartlniioti at 

3« U .\rli.-n«.unaitHiK.rtieoiKlK.thwi.liraiuI l.i^'hvr 

• m ^ Ihiiii that of the I'linthooit at Koiiio. Had iliis 

V « « it II • k l-irlicj iiiniliiil to tlmt Imiklinj:. tlif !-l"ix- 
■ ■_■_*_**' *-*!. "'' ■'=* Mi""''»t wil'l liii™ t"iii<-iilf.l <-sjR-tly 
ji ^/r'S" -- "l I «ith tluit of thi' »\<iK'T Klii].ing cmiitf, and 
jl ^£.^1^^^ !; wunhl haw Iwii the '^n-.>U->t i««sil.le improv,'- 
"—' ■"* mont to that i-difiLv. An it in, it ivrhiinly is 

"llH.ii?J''J^,.i^rJ.liM"'!'i'i.."' Ilic U'Kt i>riip.ii-lioiiwI and tho iniwt sracefiil 
litiiuaii jKHlifo of tlie firxt daws thiit ri'iiiaiiis t.i 
lis in a st.ito of wiffi- 
: (■ompli.-tcii(«H to 
I' \i» to )\n'\ffo of 


lo ci4 

its offt'ot. 
Till- intori 

of the 

iliistvrK, and i\>- 
with n ri1>U^l 

and ci>fiV.n;d vaiJt, k- 
ii.aikiil.U-. like ev,-n- 
IMrt of tLi« cdifitv, 
rather for the pmfti- 
sion tlain for the px^l 
taste of its omanieuts. 
One of tho prin- 
eiiial pH-nliari til's of 

iM. rji^uuun ui Mii.iii i,iri|pi.:it iiuUOif. ... i- i -i i- 

.-icuir iu ft. 1,1 [ In. thiMgnmpuf luiiIdingH 

in tlie immenKe size of 

Home of the Atones nscil in tlie snlKtnictnrc of Hie gn-at toniple; three 

of thoBo average aliout (!;t ft. in hiij;i]i, V) ft. r. in. in l>n.-adth. and 

Rk. IV. Cn. III. TEMPLES. 291 

13 ft. in height. A fourth, of similar dimensions, is lying in the 
qnarry, which it is calculated must weigh alone more than 1100 tons 
in it« rough state, or nearly as much as one of the tubes of the 
Britannia bridge. It is not easy to see of what use such masses 
were ; but in many places in the Bible and in Joscphus nothing is so 
much insisted upon as the immense size of the stones used in the build- 
ing of the temple and the walk of Jerusalem, the bulk of the materials 
used appearing to have been thought a matter of far more imiX)rtance 
than the architecture. It probably was some such feeling as this which 
led to their employment here, though, had these huge stones been set 
upright as the Egyptians would have placed them, we might more 
easily have understooil why so great an expense should have been 
incuiTcd on their account. 

U 2 





Bodiliciu) of Trajan and Maxcntius — Provincial basilicas — Theatre at Orange*uiu — Pmvincial amphitlieatrra — Baths of Diocletian. 


We have already seen thiit in size and magnificenc© the temples of 
Rome were amoiijjc tlie Iwist remarkable of her public buildings. It 
may be doiibteil whether, in any resjK'et, in the eyes of the Bomans 
themselves, the temples were as imi>ortant and venerable as the 
basiliois. Tluit iXNiplo cjired for government and justice more than 
for religion, and c<aiHequently piid more attention to the afiairs of the 
basilicas than to those of the temples. Our means for the restoration 
of this class of buildings are now but small, owing to their slight 
construction in the first instance, and to their materials having been 
so suitable for tlie building of Christian basilicas as to have been 
extensively used for tlmt purpose. It happens, however, that the re- 
mains wliicli we do jx>ssess comprise what we know to be the ruins of 
the two most splendid buildings of this class in Kome, and are suffi- 
ciently complete to emible us to restore their plans with considerable 
confidence. It is also fortunate tliat one of these, the Ulpian or 
Trajan's basilica, is the typiad sixjcimen of those with wooden roo& ; 
the other, tliat of Maxentius, commcmly called the Temple of Peace, is 
the noblest of the vaulted class. 

The roctanguLir jxirt of Trajan's Ixisilicii was 180 ft, in width and 
a little more tliiui twice that in length, but, neither end having yet 
been excaVatcMl, its exact longitudinal measurement has not been ascer- 
tained. It was divided into fi\'e aisles by four rows of columns, each 
about 35 fL in height, the centre being 87 ft. wide, and the side-fusles 
23 ft. 4 in. each, llie centre was covered by a wooden roof of semi- 
circular form, covered apparently with bronze plates richly ornamented 
and gilt Above the side-aisles was a gallery, the roof of which was 
supported by an up2)er row of columiLs. From the same columns also 
qprang the arches of the great central aisle. I1ie total internal height 

ItK. IV. Ch. IV. 


(ion nf iHjjn's B«iUli 


wiis thus probably about 120 ft., or higher than any Englnsh cathedral, 
thi^nigh not 80 high as some German and French churches. 

At one end was a great semicircular apse, the back part of which 
was raised, being approached by a semicircular range of stepii. In 
the centre of tliis platform was the raised seat of the quaestor or other 
magistrate who presided. On each side, upon the steps, were places 
for the assessors or others engaged in the business being transacted. 
1 n front of the apse was placcMl an altar, where saciifice was performed 
before commencing any important public business.* 

Externiilly this basilica could not have been of much magnificence. 
It was entered on the side of the Forum (on the left hand of the plan 
and section) by one triple d(X)rway in the centre and two single ones 
on either side, covered by shallow j>orticos of columns of the same height 
!is those used internally. Tliese supported statues, or rather, to judge 
from t\ui coins representing tlie buildings, rilievos, which may have set 
off, but could hardly liave given much dignity to, a building designeil 
as this was. At the end opjxxsite the a])se a similar arrangement seems 
to have prevailed. 

This mode of using columns only half the height of the building 
must have been very destructive of their effect, and of tlie general 
grandeur of the structure, but it beciimc about this time rather the 
rule than the exception, and was afterwards adopted for temples and 
every other class of buildings, so that it was decidedly an improvement 
when the arch took tlie place of the horizontal architrave and cornice ; 
the latt<.T always suggested a roof, and became singularly incongruous 
when applied as a mere ornamental adjunct. The interior of the 
basilica was, however, the import^mt element to which the exterior was 
entirely Siicrificed, this transition in architectural design, which we 
have before alluded to, taking place much faster in basilicas, which 
were an entirely new form of building, than in temples, whose con- 
fonnation had become sacred from the traditions of past ages. 

The basilica of Maxentius, which was probably not entirely finished 
till the reign of Constant ine, was rather broader than that of Trajan^ 
being 105 ft. between the widls, but it was 100 ft less in length. The 
central aisle was very nearly of ihe siime width, being 83 ft. between 
the columns, and 120 ft. in height. There was, however, a vast differ- 
ence in the construction c»f the two; so much so, that wo ai"o startled 
to see how rapid the progress had been during the interval that had 
elapsed, of less than two centuries, between the construction of tlic two 

In this building no pillars were used with iho excepticm of eight 

' This bu8ilif« is generally reiinwiitwl aa having itu apse at eithtT eiul ; but ilwrv 
is no authority whatever for thi."-, ami gt'iaral analogy would lead ud rather to infer 
that it was not tlie case. 





great GoliininB in front of the piers, employed merely as omamento, or 
as vaulting xliufts wcrt' in Gothic cathedrals, to Bupport in appeaianoe. 
though not in oonBtroctioii, 
the springing of the vaults' 
The Bide-aisles irero rooM 
by three great arches, each 
72 ft. in span, and the centre 
by an immenae intersecting 
vault in thi«e compartments. 
The form of these will be 
understood from tlie annexed 
sections (woodcnts Xoe. 193 
And U)4), one taken longitn- 
dinally, tho other across the 
building. As will be seen 
fi-om them, all the thrasts are 
collected to a point and a 
butlress placed there to re- 
ui'ivc tbeni : indeed almost all 
the pociUiaritiea afterwards 
found in Ciothic vaults are 
here employed on a fer grander 
and moro gigantic scale than 
the Gothic architects ever 
iittemiitod : bat at the same 
time it nniat bo allowed that 
t»i. i-iiU(<'rM.iMuiLi>i Ill-ilk'.!. Ki.>niiin"ht]>Tiiiic|ui>itii tlic lattcr, With smstlor dimeO' 
'■ " ' ' sions, often contrived by a 

mure arliKlic treat in tut of their materials to obtain as grand an effect, 
and fer Wore actual U-auty, than ever were attained in the great transi- 
tional halk (if the Uoniaiia. Tlie largeueoH of tho |«rts of the Roman 
buildin^H was indeiHl llutir principal defi.'ct, as in consequence of this 
ihey iiiHKt all bavi' a)>|iciin.'d smaller Ihan tliey really were, whereas 
in all Giitliic catluilriitrt the rejx-titiun and smallncss of tho component 
l»artH hnM the effect, of uiugnifyiiif; their rcfil diraenRious. 

The roofs of tlii-Kc hiillx liiid one peculiarity which it would have 
been well if the inediievul architects had copied, iuasmuch as they 
were all Iiunestly UBed an iwifs without any necessity for their being 
covered with otliersof all Gothic vaults unfortunately were. It 
is true thia is iK-Thiijis one of tho causes of their destruction, for, being only 

' One nr lliu pillnra ottliis bo-tilicn re- atuniU na a iDonamentBl oolnmn, rapport- 
muiniil in ■ill till tlie year ItiU, when iiig a aUtuv of tliD Virgin. Tile colomii, 
it WM leiiHivcd bf Uarlo Muk-mo, hj vitli its haai: iiiiil cupitnl, ij u nearly 
otdet «f Paul v.. dint n>*r«t(il in II,.. ns iiihj bu CO fwt in Leight The wbtde 
pianK of St. M. Uet'gtoie, where it now ' moouiueiit, m it now stauH KO loOL 

Fk. IV. Ch. IV. 



overlaid with cement, the rain wore away the surface, as must inevitably 
bo the case with any composition of the sort exposed horizontally to 
the weather, and, that being gone, the moisture soon penetrated through 
the crevices of the masonry, destroying the stability of the vault. Still 
some of these in Bome have resisted for fifteen centuries all the accidents 
of climate and decay, while there is not a Gothic vault of half their 
dimensions that would stand for a century after the removal of its 
wooden protection. The construction of a vault capable of resisting 
the destructive effects of exposure to the atmosphere still remains a 
problem for modem architects to solve. Until this is accomplished we 
must regard honest wooden roo& as preferable to the deceptive stone 
ceilings which were such favourites in the middle ages. 

The provincial basilicas of the Koman empire have nearly all 
perished, probably from their having been con- 
verted, first into churches, for which they were so 
admirably adapted, and then rebuilt to suit the 
exigencies and taste of subsequent ages. One ex- 
ample, however, still exists in Treves of sufficient 
completeness to give a good idea of what such 
structures were. As will be seen by the annexed 
plan it consists of a great hall 85 ft. in width 
internally, and rather more than twice that dimen- 
sion in length. The walls are about 100 ft. in 
height and pierced with two rows of windows, but 
whether they were originally separated by a gal- 
lery or not is now by no means clear. At one 
end was the apse, rather more than a semicircle of 
GO ft in diameter. The floor of the apse was 
raised considerably above that of the body of the 
building, and was no doubt adorned by a homi- 
cycle of seats raised on steps, with a throne in 
the centre for the judge. The building has been used for so many 
purposes since the time of the Komans, and has been so much altered, 
that it is not easy now to speak with certainty of any of its minor 
arrangements. Its internal and external appearance, as it stood before 
the recent restoration, are well expressed in the annexed woodcuts ; and, 
though ruined, it was the most complete example of a Koman basilica to 
be found anywhere out of the capital. A building of this description 
has been found at Pompeii, which may be considered a feir example 
of a provincial basilica of the second class. Its plan is perfectly pre- 
served, as shown in the woodcut, No. 199. The most striking difference 
existing between it and those previously described is the square ter- 
mination instead of the circular apse. It must, however, be observed 
that Pompeii was situated nearer to Magna Grsecia than to Rome, and 
was indeed far more a Greek than a Roman city. Very slight traces of 


Plan of tbo Uasilica at 

Scale 100 It to 1 in. 

2y« lioMAS AltCHlTELTUKE. Cabt 1. 

auy EtrtiHuiu dwsif^im liiivu Iteoii iliseovereJ thunr, and ncarccly any 
buildiii^s uf (111.' uiniiliir form, so luutU in v<^e in the uipilaL Hiongk 
till) gruuml pliiu of this bu.silii-a reinaina [K-rfett, the upper parts are 


knuw fiir tiTtftin wh«thir iLe 
rfswion in, however, that 
It certainly was m, and lighted 
1>^ a tIercKtory like the ccUte of 
(>retk tompleui an, howeTor, it 
lijid no pcriHtylt, it may poe- 
b,iM> Imve haii windowi. in thi- 
uj ]K r gallery, and tit- cleresforj- 
windows wore pruliably not 
luimt'.i'Hiink like thoM^ in the 
(.iiLk touiiilcs. 

IhiTo is a tonall Hjuare 

linldiiig at Otriooli, which in 

r,iiti-ii)Ij Hiipoeed to be a ha- 

hilica but itt< ubject as well as 

itH agL iH t» uncertain that 

n thing need be said of it here 

In tho wurkH of VitmviuB, too, 

tlion, 18 a description of one 

ludt bi him at Fauo, tbo re- 

iM ini nui V p« f I Tn -u Ntoratiun of which has afforded 

tniplojment for tho ingenuity 

of theadintierN of thit worbt tf iichitecth Kven taking it as restored 

ij those most desiroua of lu'^king tht liLttt ol it, it is difficult to undor- 

■timd how anything i>o bad eould havi U.t.u ti-ooted in such an ago. 

Bk. IV. Cu. IV. 



It is extremely diflfieult to trace the origin of these basilicas, owing 
principally to the loss of all the earlier examples. Their name is Greek, 
and they may probably be considered as derived from 
the Grecian Lesche, or perhaps as amplifications of 
the celliB of Greek temples, appropiiated to the pur- 
j)oscs of justice rather than of religion ; but till we 
know more of their earlier form and origin, it is 
useless si^eculating on this point. The greatest inte- 
rest to us arises rather from the use to which their 
plan was afterwards applied than from the source 
from which they themselves sprang. All the larger 
C'hristian churches in the early times were copies, 
more or less exact, of the basilicas of which that of 
Trajan is an example. The abundance of pillars, suit- 
able to such an erection, that were found everywhere 
in Home, rendered their construction Ciisy and cheap : 
and the wooden roof with which they were covered 
was also as simple and as inexpensive a covering as 
could well be designed. The very uses of the C-hiis- 
tian basilicas at first were l\v no means dissimilar to 
those of their heathen originals, a« they were in reality the assembly 
lialls of the early Christian republic, before they became liturgical 
churches of the catholic hierarchy. 

The more expensive construction of the bold vaults of the Maxentian 
basilica went far beyond the means of the early Church, established in 
a declining and alxindoned capital, and this form therefore remained 
donnant for seven or eight centuries before it was revived by the 
media3val architects on an infinitely smaller scale, but adorned with 
a degree of appropriateness and taste to which the Komans were 
strangers. It was then used with a completeness and imity which 
entitle it to be considered as an entirely new style of architecture. 


Plaii of IkutiUca 
at ToiiipeiL 
Stale 100 ft. to I ill. 


The theatre was by no mciins so essential a part of the economy of 
a Ifoman city as it was of a Grecian one. With the latter it was quite 
as indispensable as the temple ; and in the semi-Greek city of Her- 
culaneum there was one, and in Pompeii two, on a scale quite equal to 
those of Greece when compared with the importance of the town itself. 
In the citpital there appetii's only to have been one, that of Marcellus, 
huilt during the reign of Augustus. It is very questionable whether 
what we now see — esi)ecially the outer arcades — belong to that age, or 
whether the theatre may not have been rebuilt and these arcades added 
at some later peritnl. It is so completely built over by modern houses, 
and so loiined, tliat it is extremely difficult to arrive at any satisfactory 


opinion rogarding it. Its dimensions were worthy of the capital, the 
an(lionc(> }itirt lieing a semicircle of 410 ft. in diameter, and the soena 
K'ing of grwit irxtent in proportion to the other part, which is a 
clmnu'teriHtic of all Honian theatres, as compared with Grecian edifices 
of thi8 clasH. 

One of tlio most striking Boman provincial theatres is that of 
Oningis in the Houth of France. Perhaps it owes its existence, or at 
all uvrntH itH Hplondoiir, to the sTil)stiatnm of Grecian oolonists that 
pro<.*edcHl tlie KomanH in that country'. Its auditorium is 340 ft in 
diuiuetcr, hut niiicli ruined, in consequence of the princes of Orange 
Irnving used tliis }iiirt as a bastion in some fortification they were 
cinwt meting. 

The Htiige in ver^' tolerably preserx'ed. It shows well the increased 
extent and eonii>lieiition of arrangements required for the theatrical 
repreKeiitjitiouH of the age in which it was constructed, being a 
cHinsiderjible advance* towards the more modem idea of a play, as dis- 
tinguishefl from theKtiitely semi-rc^igious H|)ectacle in which the Greeks 
delighte<l. The noblest pirt of the building is the groat wall at 
the biiek, an ininienKe mass of masonry, 340 ft. in extent, and 110 ft 
in heiglit, without a single oi)ening alH>ve the Ixisement^ and no orna- 
ment except a i-jmge of blank arches, about midway between the 
Iximinent and the t(>p, and a f<?w projecting corbels to receive tlio 
footings of the masts that sup}K)rted the velarium. Nowhere does 
the arehitei^ture t>f the Homans shine so much as when their gigantic 
buildings are li'ft ti> tell their (mni tale bv the imposing grandeur of 
their masws. Whenever ornament is attem])ted, their bad taste comes 
out. The siz<» of their c<lifiees, and the solidity of their construction, 
were only suijxissimI by the Egyptians, and not al^'ays by them; and 
when, as hei*e, th4> mass of miiterial heaiK'il up stands unadorned in all 
its native gnindcur, criticism is disjirmed, and the spectator stands 
aw<»-stnick at its majesty, and turns away etuivincetl that truly "there 
were giants in thosi* days.*' This is not, it is true, the most intel- 
h'ctual way of obtaining arehitecturjil efleet, but it has the advantage 
(►f K'ing the easiest, the most cvrtiiin to secure the desired result^ and 
at the same time the most j)t»mianent. 


The deficieniy of theatres ei-ec^ted by the Komans is fiir more 
than comix*nsatA.'d by the nunilxT and si)lendour of their amphi- 
theatres, which, with their bjiths, may K^ considered as the true types 
of iioman art, although it is almost c^ertain that they derived this class 
of public buildings from the Etmscjms. At Sutri there is a very noble 
one cut out of the tufii nn-k, which was no doubt nstxl by tliat people 
for festal ropixjsentiitions long Ufore liome attemi>ted anything of the 


Vitw at Uit Tbutn *( Orangi 


kind. It is nnoiTtain whctlirr gladiatorial fio;lits «ir combat* of wild 
iK'asts toriiKMl anv ]>5ut of tlu* amnw^iiionts of the arena in tlu»se days, 
tliougli iHJxinji:, wrrstlinj];, and nmtosts of that descTiption ccrtaiuly 
did ; but wlii*ther the Etrnsc^iiis aetniilly proceeded to the shedding of 
l)l(M)d and slaujj^hter is ni(Hi? tlian dnubtfiiL 

Kvon in the remotest pirts of Britain, in (u'linany, and Cianl, 
wherever wc find a Koman st'ttlrment, \v<' find the traces of their 
amphitheatres. Their sohlierv, it setmis, eonhl not exist without the 
<'njoyment of seeing men engaged in doubtful and mortal comliats — 
<*ither killing ont* another, or toni to pieces by wild lK?a8t8. It is not 
to l)e wondered at that a jH'ople wlu) di?lighted so much in the blooily 
Kcen(»8 of the aivna should feel but very little ph-siRurc in the mimic 
sorrows and tame hunumr of thestagi'. It fitted them, it is true, to be 
a nation of e<>n<iuiTors, and gave them the empire of the world, but it 
biimght with it ft-elings singularly inimical to all the Hofter arts, and 
was jH'rhajJs tin* gretit esiuse of their nltimate debasement. 

As might 1h» I'xjK'cted, the Lirgt^st and most splendid of these 
buildings is that whieh adiuns the cji})ital ; and of all the ruins which 
K*omi' contains, n«'ne havr exeiti-d such universjil admiration as tlie 
I'Mavian amphitheatre. P^K'ts, piinters, rhapsmlists, have exhausto<l 
all th(» resinirees of their arts in the attempt to ctmvey io others the 
overpowering impression this building produces on their owni minds. 
With the singh' exeepti«»n, jK-rhaps, of the Hall at Kaniac, no min 
has met with such universjil admiration as this. Its a.ssiKriation with 
the ancient mistress i>f the world, its destniction, and the half- 
]>ropheti(? destiny awriU'd to it, all contribute to this. In spite of 
our Ix^ttcr jndgment we are forced to eonfrss that 

" Tlif jjfliulintorM* MiMxly rinnui stands 
A iioblo N\n'<*k in ruinous iK-rfoctiftn," 

and worthy of all or nrarlv all the adminition of which it ha« l>t}en the 
object Its interior is almost wholly d«.'Void of ornami-nt, or anything 
that can lx» cnlknl archittrture — a vast invertt'd pyrannM. The 
exterior dtx^ not |>ossc»ss one detail which is not ojk'U to criticism, and 
indeed to |)ositive blame. Notwithstantling all this, its magnitude, its 
form, and its associations, all coiubinc to jinnluee an efl'ei-t against 
which the critic struggles in vain. Still all must admit tliat the pillars 
and their entablature are useless and aie added ino>ngruously, and 
that the upper storey, not Ix'ing arcliL-d like the Ic^wer, but solid, and 
vrith ugly pilasters, is a iKiinful blemish. This last defect is so 
Htriking that, in spite of tin? somewhat dubious evidena* of mcHlals^ 1 
sliould feel inclineil to sus|x*<?t that it was a subsecpient addition, and 
meant wholly for the pur^x^se of hupix^rting and working the great 
imn or awning that covered the arena during the representation, 
may not have been attempted when the amphithejitre was first 

Tk. IV.Cii. IV. 


Ite tliiH ftM it, niiiy, it certainly now very miieli mtira the effoct of 
the building. 'Ilic lnwer nton'yM arc of bud deKign, bnt tliis is worse. 
Itnt not witlmtan (ling those defects, there is tio biiihlin); of Itome where 
tlio principle of rednplication of parttt, of whieh Ilic tSothic architects 
aftcrwiirds niado so much use, is carried to so great an extent as in 
this. The ('<doMseum is principally indebted to this feature for tho 
effect wliieh it prwlnccfl. Had it, for instaiiec, lx«n designed with only 
one stoi-cy of the height of the four now exiHting, nnd every arch had 
coiisequently been ns wide ns of the present four, the buikling would 
have sa^reely a]ipe:ircd half the size it is now heen to be. For all this, 

lJii»«!?r-pLm of Uip SmI 

the navtui Ampbllbmtrc Hi, Sale. 


however, when close under it, and comparing it with moving figures 
and other ohjccts, we conld scarcely eventually fail to realize its 
wonderful dimensions. In tluit case, a tme sense of the vast size of the 
building would have had to be acquired, as is the case with the &9ade 
of St. Peter'H. Now it forces itself on the mind at the first glance. It 
is the repetition of arcli l)cyond arch and storey on storey that leads the 
mind on, and gives to this amphitheatre it8 imposing grandeur, which 
all acknowledge, though few give themselves the trouble to enquire 
how this effect is produceil. 

Fortunately, too, though the fece of the building is much cut up 
by the order, tlie entablatures are unbroken throughout, and cross the 
building in loii^ vanishing lines of the most graceful ciirvaturea. 
The oval, also, is cert^iinly more favourable for effect than a circular 
fonn would be. A building of this shape may perhaps look smaller 
than it really is to a person standing exactly bpposite either end : 
but in all other iwsitions the flatter side gives a variety and an 
appearance of size which the monotonous equality of a circle would 
never produce. 

The length of the building, measured along it« greatest diameter, is 
620 ft., its breadth 513, or iiearlv in the ratio of 6 to 5, which mav be 
taken as the genenil pr<)i>ortion of these buildings, the variations from 
it being slight, and apparently either niisttikes in setting out the work 
in ancient times, or in mwisuring it in modem dtiys, rather thim an 
intentional deviation. The height of tlie tlirec lower storeys, or of 
what I believe to have IxK^n the original building, is 120 ft. ; the total 
height as it now stands is 1 57 ft. The arena itself mwisures 287 ft. in 
length by 180 in breadtli. The wliole area of the building has been 
calculated to ctaitain 250,000 square f<H?t, of wliieh the aivna contains 
40,000 ; then deducting 10,000 for the external wall, 200,000 s<iuare 
feet >Nall reiuiiin available for the audience. If we divide this bv 5,' 
which is the nunilx?r of square feet it has lKH?n found nec*essary to 
allow for each spectator in modern })laces of amusement, room will be 
afforded for 40,000 siK'Ctators ; at 4 feet, wliich is a possible <piantity, 
with continuous seats and the scant drapery oi the Komans, the amphi- 
theatre might contain 50,000 sjX'ctators at one time. 

ITie area of the KUpiX)rts luis also l>een calculated at alx)ut 40,000 
sq. ft., or \ of the wliole area ; wliicli l\>r such an eilifice is more than 
sufficient, though the excess accounts for the stability of the building. 

Kext in extent to this great nietro|K)litan aniphithejitre was that 
of Capua ; it« dimensions were 558 ft. by 4()0 : its height externally 
95 feet. It had 3 storeys, designed similarly to those of the Colosseum, 
but all of the Doric order, and used witli more purity than in the 
Koman example. 

* At the Crystal Palace it has always bot'ii found iiecessaiy to allow G square feet 
to each person. 

Bk.IV.Cr. TV. 



Next in b^ though not m nzo is that at Mmes 4i0 ft b\ (78 
and 72 in height in 2 storejB Both these storeys are more profusely 
and more el^^nth ornamented with pillars than those of either of the 
amphi theatres mentioned abore The entablature is however broken 
over each cjlnmn and pediments are introduced on each front All 
theee arrangements though showing more care m deeign and snfiicient 
elt^DOo in detail mate this building ven inferior m grandeur to the 
two earlier edifices who«e simplicity of nntliue makca up to a great 
extent, for their faults of detail 

A more beautiful example than this is that at Verona Its dimen 
aions arc .Wa ft b> 401 nnd W ft high in three storeys bejintifully 
proportioned Here the __ .^ 

order almost entireh "^^ '■ ' 

disappears, to make wa\ 
for rustication fJiowmg 
that it must he consnlei 
ably more modem tLiiii 
either of the three ex 
amplcs above q noted 
though hardly so late bh 
the time of Maximianus 
to whom it is frtquentH 
ascribed.' The arena i f 
this amphitheatre is Ter\ 
nearly perfect owing to 
the care taken < f it dnnng the middle ages when it was often used for 
tournaments and other spectacles but of its outer architectural euclo 
snro only 4 bays remain, sufficient to enable an architect to restore the 
whole, but not to allow of its effect lieing compared with that of more 
entire examples. 

The amphitheatre at Pola, which is of about the same age an that 
of Verona, and certainly belonging to the last days of the Western 
Empire, presents in its ruin a curious contrast to the other. That 
at Verona lias a perfect arena, and only a fragment of its exterior 
decoration, while the exterior of Pola is perfect, but not a trace 
remains of its arena, or of the seats that surrounded it. This is pro- 
bably owing to their having bc^on of wood, and cimsequently having 
either decayed or been bunit. Like that at Verona, it presents all the 
features of the last stage of transition; the order is still seen, or 
rather is everj-where su^jested, but so concealed and kept subordinate 
that it does not at all interfere with the general effect. But for 
these faint traces we should possess in this amphitheatre one specimen 
entirely emancipated from incongruous Grecian forms, but, as before 

I Miiflei, 'Veronn llliutnita,' vol. ni. p. fi4 et seq. 


remarked, l^ome perislied when just on the threshold of the new 

Tlio dimeiiKionH of the amphitheatre at Pola are very nearly the 
same as of that at Nimes, being 43G ft. hy 346. It haa, however, 
3 storeys, and thus its lieight is considerably greater, being 97 ft. 
Owing to the ine<iuality of the gnnind on which it is built, the 
lower storey shows tlie iKKiuliarity of a sub-basement, which is very 
pletisingly managed, and appears to emancii>ate it more . from conven- 
tional forms tlian is the case with its contemporary at Verona, The 
tliird storey, oi* attic, is also more pleasing than elsewhere, as it is 
avowedly di'signed for the support of the masts of the velarium. The 
pilasters and all (ircek forms aw omitted, and there is only a groove 
over i'vt»rv column of the middle storey to receive the masts. There is 
also a curious soit of i) luittlement on the top, evidently designed to 
facilitate' the working of the awning, though in what manner is not 
quite clear. There is still one other pecidiarity about the building 
inasmuch an the curvature of its lines is broken by 4 projections, 
intended ap^xirently to contain staircases. Tliey appear, however, to 
have Kvu subsiHpU'nt additions, the stones of which they are built 
iK'ing of a different colour from those of the body of the building. 
In a building so light and open as this one is in its present state 
there can be no doubt but that the projections give expi-ession and 
character to the outline, though such additions would go far to spoil 
any of the greater examples above quoted. 

At Otricoli there is a small amphitheatre, 312 ft. by 230, in 
2 stories, from which the order has entirely disappeared ; it is there- 
fore iK>ssibly the most modem (►f its class, but the groat flat pilaster); 
that replace the pillars are ungiiiceful and somewhat clumsy, rerhajis 
its iH}culiarities ought nitlier to Ik? looked on as provincialisms than 
as genuine spcx^imens t>f an advancinl style. Still there is a pleasing 
simplicity alx)ut it that on a hirger scale woidd enable it to stand 
comparison with some of its greater rivals. 

Ik'sides these, which arc the typical examples of the st^'le, there 
are the " Castrense " at Kome, nearly circular, and possessing all the 
&ults and none <>f the Ix-auties of the Colosseum ; one at Aries, very 
much ruineil ; and a great number of pro^^ncial ones, not only in 
Italy and Gaul, but in Gennany and Britain. ^Vlmost all these were 
principally if not wholly excavated from the earth, the part above 
ground being the mound foniunl by the excaAation. If they ever 
possessed any external dtwr.ition to juNtifv their l)eing treated as 
architectural objects, it has diKq)jx\ire<l, so that in the state at least 
in whi(;h we now tind them they do not Kdong to the omamcntal 
class of works of which we are at present treating. 

Bk. IV. Ch. IV. BATHS. 307 


Next in splendour to the amphitheatres of the Romans were their 
great thermal establishments. In size they were perliaps even more 
remarkable, and their erection must certainly have been more costly. 
The amphitheatre, however, has the great advantage in an architectural 
point of view of being one object, one hall in short, whereas the 
baths were composed of a great number of smaller parts, not perhaps 
very successfully grouped together. They were wholly built of 
brick covered with stucco (except perhaps the pillars), and have, there- 
fore, now so completely lost their architectural features that it is 
with difficulty that even the most practised architect can restore 
them to anything like their original forms. 

In speaking of the great Thermae of Imperial Rome, they must not 
be confounded with such establishments as that of Pompeii for instance. 
The latter was very similar to the baths now found in Cairo or Con- 
stantinople, and indeed in most eastern cities. These are mere estab- 
lishments for the convenience of bathers, consisting generally of one 
or two small circular or octagonal halls, covered by domes, and one 
or two others of an oblong shape, covered with vaults or wooden 
loofs, used as reception rooms, or places of repose after the bath. 
These have never any external magnificence beyond an entrance-porch ; 
and although those at Pompeii are decorateil internally with taste, 
and are well worthy of study, their smallness of size and inferiority 
of design do not admit of their being placed in the same category 
as those of the capital, which are as characteristic of Rome as her 
amphitheatres, and are such as could only exist in a capital where 
the bulk of the people were able to live on the spoils of tlie con- 
quered world rather than by tlie honest gains of their own industry. 

Agrippa is said to have built baths immediately behind the Pan- 
theon, and Palladio and others have amused themselves by restoring 
them, assuming that building to have been the entrance-hall. Nothing, 
however, could, I believe, be more unfounded than such an assumption, 
and no ruins exist sufficiently perfect to enable us to ascertain the 
arrangements of these baths or even their exact extent or position. 

Nero's baths, too, are a mere heap of shapeless ruins, and those 
of Vespasian, Domitian, and Trajan in like manner are too much 
ruined for their form, or even their dimensions, to be ascertained 
with anything like correctness. Those of Titus are monj jxirfect, 
but the very discrepancies that exist between the diflfercnt systems 
upon which their restoration has been attempted show that enough 
does not remain to enable the task to ho accomplished in a satis- 
factory manner. They owe their interest more to the beautiful 
fresco paintings that adorn their vaults than to their architectural 
character. These paintings are invaluable, as being almost the only 

X 2 



Pin L 

relicM of the painted de«jrarion of the most flonrishing penod oS iht 
Empire, and give a higher idea of Roman art than other indicBtkns 
would lead us to espect. 

The Isiths of t'on-stantine are aLiO nearlv whollr destroyed, to 
that ont of the great Thcnnie two only, those (tf DiodetiaD and of 
Caracalla, now remain ttufficiently perfect to enable ■ renoratioa 
to be made i>f them with anything like certainty. 

The great hall belonging to the baths of Diocletian is noir the 
Church of Sta. 5Iaria degli Angeli, and has been considerably allocd 
to suit the changed circumstances uf its use -. while the modem bofldings 
attached to the church have bo overlaid the older remains that it is act 
easy to fullow out the complete plan. This is of less conseqnence. as 
both in dimeiisiuns and plan they are extremely similar to those of 
Caracalla, which seem to have been among the most magnificent, as 
they certainly are tiie Ixnt pn-scrvcd, of theiic establishments,' 

'He general plan of the whoUs enclosure of the baths of Caracalla, 
was a square of about 1 1 50 ft. each way n-ith a bold but graceful cur- 

' TheM batbs liave beta rorefullj meoeareil by 11. Itlout^t, who Las alaa publiJieil a 
mtontkm of tbcm. Thin ia. on the whole, certaial]- tlie bnt acconnt we have oT anj- 
df Ifaew MtaUidimeiita. 

Bk. IV. Ch. IV. BATHS. 309 

vilinear projection on two sides, containing porticoes, gymnasia, lecture- 
rooms, and other halls for exercise of mind or body. In the rear were 
the reservoirs to contain the requisite supply of water, and below them 
the hypocaust or furnace, by which it was warmed with a degree of 
scientific skill we hardly give the Romans of that age credit for. 
Opposite to this and facing the street was one great portico extending 
the whole length of the building, into which opened a range of apart- 
ments meant apparently to be used as private baths, which extend also 
some way up each side. In front of the hypocaust, facing the north- 
east, was a semicircus or theatridium, 530 ft long, where youths per- 
formed their exercises or contended for prizes. 

These parts were, however, merely the accessories of the establish- 
ment surrounding the garden, in which the principal building was 
placed. This was a rectangle 730 ft. by 380, with a projection covered 
by a dome on the south-western side, which was 167 ft. in diameter 
externally, and 115 ft. internally. There were two small courts (a a) 
included in the block, but nearly the whole of the rest appears to have 
been roofed over. 

The modem building which approaches nearest in extent to this 
is probably our Parliament Houses. These are about 830 feet in 
length, with an average breadth of about 300, and, with Westminster 
Hall, cover as nearly as may be the same area as the central block of 
these baths. But there the comparison stops; there is no building 
of modern times on anything like the same scale arranged wholly for 
architectural effect as this one is, irrespective of any utilitarian purpose. 
On the other hand the whole of the walls being covered with stucco, 
and almost all the architecture being expressed in that material, must 
have detracted considerably from the monumental grandeur of the 
effect. Judging, however, from what remains of the stucco ornament of 
the roof of the Maxentian Basilica (woodcut No. 194), it is wonderful 
to observe what effects may be obtained with even this material 
in the hands of a people who understand its employment. While 
stone and marble have perished, the stucco of these vaults still remains, 
and is as impressive as any other relic of ancient Home. 

In the centre was a great hall (b), almost identical in dimensions 
with the central aisle of the Basilica of Maxentius already described, 
being 82 ft. wide by 170 in length, and roofed in the same manner by 
an intersecting vault in three compartments, springing from eight 
great pillars. This opened into a smaller apartment at each end 
of rectangular form, and then again into two other semicircular halls, 
forming a splendid suite 460 ft. in length. This central room is 
generally considered as the tepidarium, or warmed apartments, having 
four warm baths opening out of it. On the north-east side was the 
natatio, or plunge bath (c), probably tepid, a room of nearly the same 
dimensions and design as the central one. On the side opposite to this 


was the circular apartment (d), covered by the dome above mentioned 
which, from its situation and the openness of its arrangements, must 
have contained a cold bath or baths. There are four other rooms on 
this side, which seem also to have been cold baths. None of these points 
have, however, yet bec^n satisfactorily settled, nor the uses of the smaller 
subordinate rooms ; every restorer giving them names aooording to his 
own ideas. For our purpose it suffices to know that no gronps of state 
apartments in such dimensions, and wholly devoted to purposes of 
display and recreation, were ever before or since grouped together under 
one roof. ITie taste of many of the decorations would no doubt be 
faulty, and the architecture shows those incongruities inseparable from 
its state of transition ; but such a collection of stately halls must have 
made up a whole of greater splendour than we can easily realize from 
their l>are and weatlier-l)eaten ruins, or from anything else to which 
we can compare them. Kven allowing for their being almost wholly 
built of brick, and for their bcniig disfigured by the bad taste insejiarable 
from everything Roman, there is nothing in the world which for size 
and grandeur ctin eoniiJare with these imperial places of recreation.* 

* St. Georgf'*8 Hall at Liveri)o<)l is tho courts at eacli end, it makes up a suite of 

most exact copy in in<Hl<Tn times of a part aimrtments very similar (o those found in 

of these Baths. The Hall ittM^lf is a re- the Roman examples. The whole buiUliDg, 

pro<laction Ixjth in scale an<l design of the however, is less than one-fourth of the 

central hall of Cnnicalla s Buths, but im- size of the c(*ntral niiiss of a Itoman bath, 

provc<l in detail and design, having live and tlien^forc gives but little idea of the 

bays instiwl of only three. With the two mugnificence of the whole. 



Arches nt Rome; in'Frante — Arch at TiiicB — PillnM of Victory — Tomlit — 
Minerva Mediro — PrnvincJal Imnbs — Eaetorn tombs — Dnmeutic archltectnro — 
Spolatro — Pompiji — Bridgea — Aqueducts. 

Triumphal arches wore among the most peculiar of the variotis forme 
of art which the Komans borrowed from those arouiid them, and used 
with that stningo mixture of splendour and bad taste which charae- 
teriseB all their works. 

Theee were in the first instance no doubt borroweil from the Etmti- 
cans, as was also 
the ceremony of 
the triumph with 
which they were 
ultimately asso- 
ciated. At first 
they seem rather 
to have been used 
as festal entrances 
to tho great pub- 
lic roads, the con- 
struction of which 
wasconsidfreil one 
of the most im- 
portant benefits a 
ruler could confer ■ 
upon liiH country. 
There was qjie 
erected at Itimini 
in honour of an 
important restora- 
tion of tho Flami- 

nian \\'ay by Augustus ; another at Susa in I'iedmont, to commemo- 
rate a similar act of the same Emperor. Trajan built one on the 
pier at Ancona, when he restored that harbour, and another at Bene- 
ventum, when ho repaired the Via Appia, represented in the woodcut 
here given (Ko. 206). It is one of tho best preserrcd as well as most 
graceful of it« class in Italy. The arch of the Sorgii at Tola in Istria 




UKQUin ulisu tu have been erei-t«d fur u like purpcwe. Tliat of Hadrian 
at AthiiiM, and auother built bj- him at Antinoc in Egypt, were 
laununtc'titH niort'Iy i-<.muicmorative of the Ijenefits which he had con- 
ffrrt-d va thoee citios bv the art-hitectural works he had ere«:ted within 
thi.-ir walk. By fur tlie moat ituportant applicatioD of theee ^tewava, 
in Itum<.' at h^wt, was to commemorate a triamph which may hare 
paused aKnig ilic road tiver whit-h the arrh was creeled, and perhaps in 
liomc'iiintaiices they iiiay have beeu erected tieforchand, for the triumphal 
procciwiuuK to piHH through, and of which they woidd remain mcoiorials. 
Tlic Arch of TitiiH at Itomc ia well known for the beauty of its de- 


hide ..f the !.lL-h 
their iK'ing uncil 
KeutHti'iiiM iif the d(.-e<ltt ihi 

the estra^irdinarv interest which it derives from 

having been erected tu commemorate the con< 

i|nest of JeruKtlciu. and conaequentlj repre- 

(*nting in its basni-rilievi the xpoils of the 

Tt'iuple. From the annexed cleTation. drawn 

to the iiKual scale, it will he seen that the 

biiiKling m not lai^. and it is not so well pro- 

_ piirtioiied an that at Heneventum, repretKUtcd 

in the last woodcut, the attic being o%-erpower- 

in^ly liigh. 'ilie aliNcnce of sculpture on each 

)kii h defeet, for the luil merit of theec buildings is 

fiiimeworks for the exhibition of Hculptural repre- 

ci'ected to commemorate. 

In the later days of the Kmpire 
two sidcHirches were added for foot- 
jiasHcngera. in addition to the car- 
riiigf-way in the centre. This added 
much to ihe splendour of the edifice, 
and gave a greater opportunity for 
sculptural decoration than the single 
aix'h aflorded. llic Arch of Septi- 
mius Severua, represented to the 
same scale in woodcut Na 208, is 
jK'i'liiipH the best specimen of the 
claas. That of C'oiistantine is very similar and in most respects equal 
to this — a merit which it owes to most of its nculpttires being borrowed 
from earlier monumenls. 

More splendid ihau either nf tliesc is the arch at Orange. It is not 
known by whom it was erectdl, or even in what age ; it is, however, 
oertainly very hito in the Hoiuiin period, and shows a strong tendency 
to treat the order as enlir(.'ly siihurdiiiatc, and to exalt the plain masses 
into that importance which cliaracterises tlie late transitional period. 
Unfortunately its sculptun^ are so much destroyed by time and vio- 
lence that it is not easy to speak with certainty as to their ago; hut 
might be done than has hitherto been effected to illustrate this 
tt monntnont. 


At ItkeiiUH thoro ia an arch which was probably luuuh more mag- 
nificent than this. When in a perfect state it was 1 10 ft. in width, and 
had three openings, the eentral one 17 ft wide by 40 ft. high, and those 
on each side 10 ft. in width, each separated by two Corinthian columns. 
From the style of the sculpture it certainly was of the last ago of the 
Boman Empire, but, having been built into the walls of the city, it has 
been so much injured that it is difficult to say wliat its original form 
I nay have been. 

Besides these there is in France a very elegant single-arched gate- 
way at St. R^mi, similar to and probably of the same age as that at 
lieneventum ; another at Cavallon, and one at Caipontras, each with 
one arch. There is also one with two similar arches at Lungres : and 
one, the Porta Nigra, at Besan^n, whichs hows so complete a transition 
from the Koman style that it is difficult to believe that it does not 
belong to the renaissance. 

There still remains in France another class of arches, certainly not 
triumphal, but so similar to those just mentioned that it is difiicnlt 
to separate the one from the other. 1'he most impoi-tant of these are 
two at Autun, called rospeetively the Porte Arroux and the Porte St 
Andre, a view of which is given in woodcut No. 209. l!]ach of these 

has two central latgo archways for carriages, iind one on each side for 
foot-passengers. Their most i-emarliable peculiarity is the light arcade 
or gallery that runs across the top of them, replaeing the attic of the 
Koman arch, and giving a degree of lightness combined with height 
that these never possessed. Those gates were certainly not meant for 
defence, and the apartment over them could Kcarcely be applied to utili- 
tarian purposes ; so tliat we may, I believe, consider it as a mere orna- 
mental appendage, or as a balcony for display on festal occasions. It 


Past I. 

appearn, however, to offer & better hint for modern arcfa-bnUders than 
any other example of its claAS. 

Kvcn more intoresting than these gates at Autun is that called the 
I'orta Nigra at TrevoB ; (ot though fiir ruder in stylo and coarser in 
detail, as might be espectcd from the remoteness of the pruviooe where 
it ia found, it is fiir more complete. Indeed it is the only examide <rf 
its class which wo poeiiess in anything like its original state. Its front 
consists of a double arcfaway sonnonnted 
by an arcadcd gallery-, like the Frendi 
esampk«. Within this is a reotai^nlar 
court which seems never to have be^ 
roofed, and beyond this a socond doohle 
archway similar to the first. At the ends 
siaio iu(i It. Id 1 in. of the court, projecting each way beyond 

the faco of tho gateway and the galleiy 
surmounting it, are 2 wings 4 stories in height, containing a series of 
apai'tments m tho form of small basilicas, all similar to one another, 
and mGasuring about 
^^1-, 5oft.by22. Itianol 

easy lo andeistand 
how these were ap- 
proached, as there is 
no stair and no place 
for one. Of conrse 
there must have been 
some mode of aocc^a, 
and perhaps it may 
have been on the site 
of the apee, shown 
I tho plan (wood- 
cut Xo. 210), whidi 
was added wfaen the 
111. Vii>««cih- hiiia Ninnni Ti*v™. building was con- 

verted into a dtnrt^ 
in the middle iig(.'w. Tlii-Me ui»riiutMit« were probably originally used as 
courts or ehamberK uf juHticc, thus realiiiing, more nearly than any other 
Kuropeaii exitinplc 1 am acquainted with, the idea of a gate of justioe. 

Notwitluttanding itn lU'fecIs of detail, there is a variety in the out- 
litic of tliiH building and a 1x>1(1ikb8 of profile that render it an ex- 
tremely pleasing example of the style adopted ; and though exhibiting 
many of the faults incidental to the design of tho Colosseum, it poBsosBcs 
all that repetition of parts and Ciothic feeling of design which give such 
value to its dimensiontt, though these are far from being contemptilde, 
the building being 11,5 ft. wide by 95 in height to the top of the win^. 
There probably were many similar gates of justice in the province, 

Bk- IV. Ch. V. GATES. 315 

but all have perished, unleae we except those at Autiin just described. 
I am convinced that at that place there were originally such winga as 
these at Treves, and that the small charch, the apse of which is seen 
on the right band (woodcut Ko. 209), stands upon the foundations of one 
of these. A slight excavation on the opposite side would settle this 
point at once. If it could be proved that these gateways at Autun 
had such lateral adjuncts, it would at onoe explain the use of the 
gallery over the arch, which otherwise looks so unmeaning, as a passage 
connecting the two wings togotjier. 

Another form also is that of an arch at the entrance of a bridge, 
generally bearing an inscription commemorative of its building. Its 
purpose is thus closely connected with that of the arches before men- 
tioned, wliich commemorate the execution of roads. Most of the great 
bridges of Italy and Spain wore so adorned ; but unfortunately they 
have either heen used as fortifications in the middle ages, or removed 
in modem times to make way for the increased circulation of traffic 
That built by Trajan on his noble bridge at Alcantara in Spain is well 
known ; and there exists a double-arched bridge at Saintes, in the south 
of France. Tho most elegant and most perfect specimen, however, of 
this class is that of St. Chamas in Provence, represented in the woodcut 
No. 212. It consists of 2 arches, one at each eud of the bridge, of 

singular elegance of fonn and detail. Although it bears a still legible 
inKcription, it in unccitain tn what age it belongs, probably that of tho 
AntonincB ; and I should account for tho purity of its details by the 
Greek element that pervades tho south of France. Whether this is bo 
or not, it is impossible not to admiro not only tho design of the whole 
bridge with its 2 arches, but the el^anoe with which the details have 
been executed. 


Used in this mode as commencements of roads, or entrances to 
bridges, or as festal entrances to unfortified towns, there are perhaps 
no monuments of the second class more appropriate or more capable 
of architectural expression than these arches, though all of them hare 
been more or less spoiled by an incongruous order being applied to them. 
Used, however, as they were in Eome, as monuments of victory, with- 
out offering even an excuse for a passage through them, not only is the 
taste displayed more than questionable, but the manner in which they 
were cut up by broken coruices and useless columns placed on tall 
pedestals, and with other trivial details highly objectionable, depriving 
them as it did of that largeness of design which is the only true merit 
and peculiar cliaractenstio of Eoman art, while that exquisite el^anoe 
with which the Greeks knew so well how to dignify even the most 
trivial objects was entirely lost. 

PiLLAiw OF Victory. 

ri liars of Victory are a class of monuments which seem to have 
been used in the East in very early times, though their history it must 
be confessed is somewhat fragmentary and uncertain, and they seem to 
have Ixjen adopted by the Komans in those provinces where they had 
been employed by the earlier inhabitants. AVhatever the original may 
have been, the Komans were singularly unsuccessful in their applica- 
tion of tlie form. They never, in fact, rose above the idea of taking a 
column of construction, magnifying it, and placing it on a pedestal 
without any attempt to modify its details or hide the original utilita- 
rian purpose for which the pillar was designed. When they attempted 
more than this, they failed entirely in elaborating any new form at all 
worthy of admiration. The Columna Kostrata, or that erected to cele- 
brate naval victories, was, so far as we can judge from representations 
(for no perfect spc^cimen exists), one of the ugliest and clumsiest forms 
of pillar it is possible to conceive. 

Of those of Victory, one of the most celebrated is that erected by 
Diocletian at Alexandria. A somewhat similar one exists at Arsinoe, 
erected by Alexander Severus ; and a third at Mylassa in Caria. All 
these are mere Corinthian pilljvrs of the usual form, and with the details 
of those usid to support entablatures in porticos. However beautiful 
these may be in their i)ioper place, they are singularly inappropriate 
and ungraceful when used as minarets or single columns. 

Tliere are two in Kome not quite so bad as these, both being of the 
Doric order. Had the square abacus in these been cut to a round form, 
and ornamented with an appropriate railing, we might almost have for- 
gotten their original, and have fancied that they really were round 
towers with balconies at the top. The great object of their erection was 
to serve as vehicles for sculpture, though, as we now see them, or as 
.^ ihfBj aie caricatured at Paris and elsewhere, they are little more than 

Bfc. IV. Ch. V. 


instances of immense labour bestowed to very little purpose. As 
originally used, these pillars were placed in small courts surrounded 
by open porticos, whence the spectator could at two or perhaps at 
three difTerent levels examine the sculpture at his leisure and at a 
convenient distance, while the abaurdity of the pillar supporting nothing 
was not apparent, from its not being seen from the outside. This 
arrangement is explained in woodcut No, 191, which is a section through 
the basilica of Trajan, showing the position of his column, not only with 
reference to that building, but (o the surrounding colonnade. The same 
was almost certainly the case with the 
pillar of Marcus Aurclius, which, with 
slight modifications, seems to have been 
copied from that of Trajan ; but even in 
the most fiivourahle situations no monu- 
ments can be less worthy of admiration 
or of being c(^ied than these. 

A £ir better specimen of this class 
is that at CuKsi, near Beaune, in France. 
It probably belongs to the time of Au- 
relian, but it is not known either by 
whom it was erected or what victory 
it was designed to celebrate ; still that 
it is a pillar of victory is undoubted ; 
and its reeetublanco to pillars raised 
with the same object in India is quit£ 

The arrangement of the idso serving 
as a pedestal for 8 statues is not onlj' 
elegant but appropriate. The ornament 
which covers tlie shaft takes off from 
the idea of itii being a mere pillar, and 
at the same is so subdued as not to 
break the outline or intcrfw-e witli 
constructive propriety. :; 

The capital, of the (!orinthijtn order, 
is found in the neighbourhood used as 
the mouth of a well. In its original 
position it no doubt had a hole through 
it, which being enlarged suggested its 
application to it« present ignoble pur- 
pose, the hole being no doubt intended 
either to receive or support the statue ' "''"" ' ''" ' " 

or emblem that originally crowned the monument, but of that no trace 

more natural mode of monumental expression 
upright stone set up by the victors to comme- 

There cannot be B 
than that of a simple 



Part I. 

morat« their prowess and succosa. Aooordingly steles or pillars erected 
for this purpose are found everj-where, a- d take shapes as rariooa as 
the coiintrieB where they stand, or as the people who erected them ; 
but nowhtiie was their true architectural expreesion so miatakcn as in 
Itouie, where, by perverting a feature dedgned for one purpose to a 
totally difturcnt une, an example of bad taste was given till then on- 
known, though in our days it has become not uncommon. 

Tn that strange collection of the styles of all nations, which, mingled 
t^^ther, makes up the sum of lionian art, nothing strikes the architec- 
tural Htudent with more astonishment than the number and importance 
of Iheir tombf. If the Romans are of Aryan origin, as is generally 
assumed, they arc the only people of that race among whom ttnab- 
buildiug was not utterly neglected. The importance of the tombs 
among the Itomiin remains proves one of two things. Either a consi- 
derable proportion of Etruscan blood was mixed up with that of the 
dominant race in Itonie, or the fierce and inartistic Itomans, having 
no art rf their own, were led blindly to copy that of the people among 
whom they were located. 

Of the tombs of Consular Rome nothing remains except perhaps 
the sarcophagus of Scipio ; and it is only on the eve of the Empire that 
wo meet with the well-known one of 
Crocilia Mctella, the wife of Crassos, 
which is not only the best specimen 
of a Roman tomb now remaining to 
iw, but the oldest building of the im- 
perial city of wliich we have an au- 
thentic dat«. It consists of a bold 
square basement about 1 00 ft square,' 
wliich was originally ornamented in 
some manner not now intelligible, 
i From this rose a circular tower about 
94 ft. in diameter, of very bold ma- 
sourj', Bunuotmted by a frieze of ox- 
•«? skulls with wreaths joining them, aud 
a well-profikil cornice : 2 or 3 eour^os 
of masonry above this seem fo have 
belonged to the original work; and above this, almost certainly, in 
the original design rose a conical roof, which has perishetl. The 
t<iwer having been used as a fortress in the middle ages, battlements 
liave been added to supjily the place of the roof, and it has been 
otherwise disfigured, so as to detract much from its beauty as now 

Libout till' llillH 

H bnilding : tbaie «>e the 

Bk. IV.CH.V. TOMBS. 310 

seen. Still we have no tomb of the same importance so perfect, nor 
one which enables us to connect the Roman tombs so nearly with 
the Etruscan. The only addition in this instance is that of the 
square basement or podium, though even this was not unknown at a 
much earlier period, as for instance in the tomb of Aruns (woodcut 
No. 168). The exaggerated height of the circular base is also remark- 
able. Here it rises to be a tower instead of a mere circular base of 
stones for the earthen cone of the original sepulchre. The stone roof 
which probably surmounted the tower was a mere reproduction of the 
original earthen cone. 

Next in age and importance was the tomb of Augustus in the 
Campus Martina It is now so completely ruined that it is extremely 
difficult to make out its plan, and those who drew and restored it in 
former days were so careless in their measurement that even its dimen- 
sions cannot be ascertained : it appears, however, to have consisted 
of a circular basement about 300 ft. in diameter, and about 60 ft in 
height, adorned with 1 2 large niches. Above this rose a cone of earth 
as in the Etruscan tombs, not smooth like those, but divided into 
terraces, which were planted -with trees. We also learn from Suetonius 
that Augustus laid out the grounds around his tomb and planted 
them with gardens for public use during his lifetime. More like the 
practice of a true Mogul in the East than the ruler of an Indo- 
Germanic people in Europe. 

This tomb, however, was far sui'passed, not only in solidity but in 
splendour, by that which Hadrian erected for himself on the banks of 
the Tiber, now known as the Mole of Hadrian, or more frequently the 
Castle of St. Angelo. The basement of this great tomb was a square 
about 340 ft each way, and about 75 ft high. Above this rose a 
circular tower 235 ft. in diameter and 140 in height ITie whole was 
crowned probably by a dome, or at least by a curvilinear roof, which 
with its central ornament must have risen to a height of not less than 
300 ft. The circular or tower-like part of this splendid building was 
ornamented with columns, but in what manner restorers have not 
been quite able to agree ; some making 2 storeys, both with pillars, 
some, one of pillars and the upper one of pilasters. It would require 
more correct measurements than we have to enable us to settle this 
point, but it seems probable that there was only one range of columns 
on a circular basement of some height surmounted by an attic of at 
least equal dimensions. The order might have been 70 ft, the base 
and attic 38 ft each. 

Internally the mass was nearly solid, having only 2 small sepul- 
chral chambers, one above the other, in the centre. There may, how- 
ever, have been a circular apartment under the dome, though this is 
hardly probable. 

Besides these there was another class (»f tombs in Home, called 


columbaria, generally oblong or square rooms belnw the level of the 
ground, the walls of which were pierced with a great number of little 
pigeon-lioloa or tvlls just of mifficient size to reccire an am containing 

the Ashce cf the 
bodf, 'which had 
been bomt accOTd- 
ing to the nnial 
Roman mode c( 
disposing of the 
dead. Externally 
of oonrae tfa^ had 
no Brchit«ctai«. 
though some of 
the more import- 
ant bmily Eepol- 
thres of this class 
were adorned in- 
teiiialt}' with pilaNtent and pitintcd omauK'ntK of considerable beauty. 

In the earlier ages of the Itoman empire these two forms of tombs 
characterised with tiuflicient cleamcsK the two races, each with their 
distinctive customs, which made up the population of Rome. Long 
before its expiration the two were fused tj^ether so thoroughly that 
we loeo all trace of the distinction, and a new form of tomb arose com- 
pounded of the two older, which became the typical form wnth the 
early Christians, and frimi them passed to the Saracens and other 
eastern nations. 

The new form of tomb retained ext«nially the circular form of the 
Pelaf^c sepulchre, thongh constructive necessities afterwards caused 
it to become polyginml. Instead however of being solid, or nearly so. 
the walls were only s<i thick as was necessarj' to support the dome, 
which became the universal form of i-oof of these buildings. 

The sepulchres of Rome have as yet been far too carelessly examined 
to enable us to trace nil the steps by which the transformation took 
place, but as a general rule it may be stated that the gradual enlarge- 
ment of the central circulai- apartment is almost a certain test of the 
age of a tomb ; till at last. l>efore the age of Constantine, they became 
in fact representations of the Pantheon on a small scale, almost always 
with a cr\-pt or circular vault below the principal apartment 

One of the most curious transitiimal i>pecimena is that found near 
San Vito, represented in the woodcut No. 217. Here, as in all tie 
earlier specimens, the principal apartment is the lower in the square 
basement. The upper, which has lost its decoration, has the appearance 
of having been hollowed out of the frustum of a gigantic Doric colomn, 
or rather out of a solid tower like the ccntinl one of the tomb of Anins 
(woodcut Ko, 168). Shortly after the ^^ of this sepulchre the lower 

Ik. IV. Ch. V. 


apartment became a more crypt, and 

eepulchres of the Cornelia and TosBia families 

Pantheons somewhat taller m 

proportion, and mth a crjpt. 

This is still more remarkable 

ill a building called the Torre 

dei Schiavi, which has had a 

portico attached to one side 

and in other respects looks 

very like a dirtct imitatioii 

of that celebrated templi. It 

seems certainh h ncier to 

have been built for a tomb 

Another tomb very bimilar 
to that of the Tobsia familj is 
called that of bta Helena the 
mother of Constantino If it 
is not hers, it belongs at an\ 
rate to the labt days of the 
Empire, and ma^ be taken as 
a &)r specimen of the tombs 
of that age and class It is a vast transition irom the tomb of Cojcilia 
Metolla, though like all the thinges introduced 1 \ the II mins it shows 
the never-failing tendenoj to tranhf r 1 11 ir hitectural embellishments 
from the extciior to the mteiior of cMiy U] of building 

It consists of a basement about 100 ft. square, containing tho crypt. 
On this stands a circular tower in two storeys. In the lower storey is 
a circular apartment about 66 ft. in diameter, surrounded by 8 niches; 
in the upper the niches are external, and each is pierced with a window. 
The dimensions of the tomb are nearly the same as those of Cseoilia 
Metella, and it thus affords an excellent opportunity of comparing the 


two extremes of the series, and of contrasting the early Boman with 
the early Cliristian tomb. 

llie typical example of a sepulchre of this age is the tomb or bap- 
tistery' of Sta. Costanza, the daughter of Constantino (woodcut No. 268). 
In this building the pillars that adorned the exterior of such a mauso- 
leum, for instance, as thiit of Hadrian, are introduced internally. Ex- 
ternally the building never can have had much ornament. But the 
breaks between the lower aisle and the central compartment, pierced 
with the clerestory, must have had a very pleasing effect. In this 
example there is still shown a certain d^ree of timidity, which does 
not afterwards re-apjicar. ITio columns are coupled and are fer more 
numerous than they need have been, and are united by a fragment of 
an entablature, as if the architect had been afraid to place his %'aiilt 
directly on the capitals. Notwithstanding these defects, it is a pleasing 
and singularly instructive example of a completed transformation, and 
is just what we miss in those secular buildings for which the Chris- 
tians had no usti. 

Another building, which is now kno^^'n as the Ijateran Baptistery 
(woodcut No. 2<)7), was also undoubtedly a pLuv of sepulture, though 
whether it is rightly ascribed to Constantine, and was intended by him 
for his own tomb, may be questioned. Here the central apartment, 
never having lxM?n designed to support a dome, is of a far lighter con- 
struction, an upper order of pillars Ix^ing placed on the lower, with 
merely a light architrave and frieze running between the two orders, 
the external walls l)eiiig slight in consti-uction and octagonal in plan.' 
Wq must not in this place pursue any further the subject of the trans- 
ition of style, as we have already trespassed within the pile of Chris- 
tian architecture and piissed beyond the limits of heathen art. So 
gradual, however, was the change, and so long in preparation, that it is 
impossible to draw the line exactly where the separation actually took 
place betwa^<'n the two. 

Temi'LE of Minkhva Medica. 

One imiHjrtiint building remains to be mentioned before leaving 
this pai-t of the subject. It commonly goes by the name of the Temple 
of Minerva Medica, though this is eertiiinly a misnomer. Recently it 
has become the fashion to assume that it was the hall of some bath; 
no building of that class, however, was known to exist in the neigh- 
bourhood, and it is extremely improbable that any should be found 
outside the Ser\'ian walls in this direction ; moreover, it is wanting in 
all the necessar}' accompaniments of such an establishment. 

It is here placed with the tombs Ix^causc it« site is one that would 
justify its being so classed, and its form being just such as would be 
applicable to that purpose and to no other. It is not by any means certain, 

* These two buildliips are described further on 'p. 383 y aa Christian edifices. 

hk. IV. ch. y. 



however, that it is a tomb, though there does not seem to be any more 
probable supposition. It certainly beluugs to the last days of the 
lloman Empire, if indeed it be not a Christian building, which I am 
very much inclined tu believe it is, for, on comparing it with the 
UaptJBtery of Constantine and the tomb of Sta. Costanza, it shows a 
considerable advance in construction on both these buildings, and a 
greater similarity t« San Vitalc at Uavennn, and other buildings of 
Justinian's time, than to anything else now found in Rome. 

As will be seen from the plan and section (woodcuts Nos. 219 and 
^20), it has a dome, 80 ft, in diitmeter, resting on a decagon of singu- 
larly light and ele- 
gant construction. 
Nine of the com- 
partments contain 
niches which give 
great room on the 
floiir, as well as 
great variety and 
lightness to the ge- 
neral design. Above 
this is a clerestory _ 
of 10 well-propor- _ 
tioned windows, ji», 
which give light to 
the building, per- 
haps not in so effec- 
tive a manner as 
the one eye of the 
I'antheon, though 
by a far more con- 
venient arraugo- 
ment to defy the 
who did not possess 
glass. So far as I 
know, all the domed 
build ings erec ted by 
the Homans up to 
the time of Constan- 
tino, and indeed long afterwards, were circular in the interior, though, 
like the temple built by Diocletian at Spalatro, they were sometimes 
octagonal externally. This, however, is a polygon both internally and 
on the outside, and the mode in which the dome is placed on the poly- 
gon shows the first rudiments of the pendentive system, which was 
afterwards carried to such perfection by the Byeantine architects, but 

Y 2 



Pabt I. 

iH iioulien. tlM tu Ix found lu Uoaii It probably n-as for the puqicwe 
of Hiiumhit duuiuixliing tli< difficulties of this cotistraction that the 
arc)uti.ct ad i>ti.-d a fij^irc nitli 1*^ iiuttitd of 8 sides. 

TliiB too IS I bilii^e tlic first buildmg in n'hieh buttresses are 
ajiplitil so ih to p^c stnii};th to the walla csaetlv at the point where it 

IS moat wauted By this arrangement the 

arcliitci.t was enabk^d to dispense with nearly 
uni. liulf tliL quantity of material that wa» 
thought necoi<san when the dome <rf the Pan- 
theon w 18 et nitructed, and which he mimt 
hme i.iiip1oied he copied that building, 
lit*! 1( 4 this the dome was libbed with tUea, 
UN Fihiun in woodcut No. 221, and the spaot* 
■■ IxtuLiii the nbs filled in with inferior, ptr- 
liqiB lightir iiiu>onr\'. bondod together at 
' lit il conitK > of tika where necessary. 
ns and \ in t\ wluth the b:ise of this building 
u.\u.>, it IS l<i ft. highi.r than its diameter, which 
lilt prrj]xirtioii of iiiijilit tn width, the want of which is the 


-UUS tlK llfeht 

priin-ii«il difuct i.f the I'aiithoi 



iMially x1i< 

bitetl the Kurojicau pi-oviiiceK uf tlie Kui 
w of tombs of liny im[H>rlHnce ti 

It is not known what the side 
>~ii iu the ground -plans, nor even 
whether they are coe^■al with tho 
muiu central edificv. I suspect 
they have never been very cor- 
iwtly laid down. 

Taking it altugtither. the 
liuiUliiig is certainly, both an 
viiucems coiifltmction and pro- 
|)iirtioii, by far the most ucientifii' 
uf ull those ill ancient Rome, and 
iu these rospectM as iiir su]>erior 
to the Pantheon as it is inferior 
to that temple in size. Indeed 
there aru few inventions of the 
middle ages that are not at- 
tempted here or in tho Temple 
of I'oace— hilt more in this than 
in the latter; so much so, indeed, 
tluit I cannot help believing that 
it in much more modern than is 
gcnomlly supposed. 

As might be expected &om our 
'k'dgo of the iiicc that iiiha- 
I empii-e. there are very few 
■ fiiiiiid in them. One very 

Bk. IV.Ch. V. 


beautifiil example exiEte at St. R^mi, repreeenfed in the annexed wood- 
cut (No. 222). It caw hardlj', however, bo correctly called a tomb, but 
ie rather a cenotaph or a monument, erected, as the inscription on it t«lls 
UB. by Scxtue and Marcus, of the family of the Julii. to their parents, 
whoso Btatucs appear under the dome of the 
upper storey. There is nothing funereal either 
in the inscription or the form, nor anything 
to lead U8 to suppose that the bodies of the 
parents repose beneath its foundation. 

The lower portion of this monument is 
the square basement which the Romans always 
added to the Etruscan form of tomb Upon 
this stands a storey pierced with an nichway 
in each face, with a 3-quarter pillar of the 
Corinthian order at cvcrj' angle 1 he highest 
part is a circular colonnade, a mmature cop> 
of that which wc know to havL once encircled 
Hadrian's Mole. 

The open arrangement of the archeh and 
colonnade, while it takes off considerably frcm 
the tomb-liko simplicity becoming to suth 
buildings adds very much to the lightness and 
elegance of the whole. AJtogLthir thi. bnild 
ing lias much more of the aspiring chiractoi 
of Christian art than of the moic solid and 
horizontal forms which were characteristic of 
the stylo then dying out. 

Another monument of very sinpilar and 
exceptional form is found at Igel near freTos 
in Germany. It is so unlike anything found 
in Italy, or indeed anjthing of the Komtn age 
that, were its date not perfectlj known fiom 
the inscription upon it, one might rither bo 
inclined to ascribe it to the agt of Francis I 
than to the latter days of tlie Roman Empire 

The form is graceful, though the pilasters 
and architectural ornaments seem someuhat 
misplaced. It is covered with sculptures from 
top to bottom. These, however as is gtne 
rally the case witli Roman funeral uionu jjs Monum 
menta, havo no reference to death nor to the " "^ 

life or actions of the person to whom the 
monument is saereil, but arc moro like the scenes pain 
mtal stele anywhere, 'ilie principal object i 
1 the woodcut is the sun, but the subjecta i 






it-JV-C-V { J 

I the face repre- 
e varied in each 


;^iiri Kt»MAN ARCHITEcTrRR Part L 

£ii.»i-. iiii'l. th'-»iit:h mnoh time-worn, they still give a very perfect idea 
• t* rhr r:> h ••riuuit-ntariiin of the monumental of the last ago of the 

TLv T'Tir >[.i^»> at Nimes iu t«PO important a monument to he 
pise^^i ■ v-.-r. Th-.'::;^h in its present ruined stote it is almost more diiBcult 
r. ' -x! 1.1 in ::: in ;\nv .tht-r R«imnn remains that haTe reached our timeft. 
I: .1 n>:>r-' ■ t ;in ■ *:\\'Z' 'Hil tower Th) ft. in diameter, and now about 120 ft. 
1.:^::.. Tr.'- Kfc>»iii»nr is i'Xt».-niit:il bi?yond this tower on every side hy 
.1 '*::■'* ' f AP h-^ >iH'pi.irtinjr a terrace to which access was obtaincil 
Vv ar. • x:«m-il tii;rht if >tci«s. or rather an inclined plane. From the 
mik- ::i :Lv wa11> it s.r-ms cvidt^-nt that this terrace originally sup 
i^ rt'*: » p ristyl- -'r. piSc^ibly. a range of chambers. Within the base- 
nM:t is .\ j:r' at « ii iml»r cuvenil by a dome of rubble masonry to which 
r.-* .ko> ss .^ "M !•• . I'T.iine*! fn-m withe mt. but the interior nuiy have 
l«vn T'.i. r.'"! rhrt'iiirh ihf eyi* of th«? dome. From the terrace an 
ir.n- rran: rtipht if sr. ps lead upward.** to— wliat? It is almost im- 
pv*>:Mo T."' p fniiii fr.-m an^^wt-rinir, to a ei.*lla like those which crowned 
thv T'lui' Triv.]'I-s t-^f Assyrii. That the main object of the building 
wiis >• p'll' Iiril M"- iii-i h/»nlly d-^ubtful, but we have no other instance in 
Kunip- • f ;i T-iv.l' with >ti«"]i a leading to a chamber above it. 

TliAt >Iat>< ill'S was a riioMiioian and then a Phocian colony long 
K'f.«n^ l\. tinu-s •Nrrui'S p n^^i-ally to K^ admitte<l, and that in the 
Touiplt* of Pi in.i w.i< UiMirs Nt^s. 1 S»"» and IS l) and in this building there 
i< an Ktru-M-an «^r Kasttru olom^nt \vhi»-h can hardly bo mistaken and 
nwv load tt> vory important othn«igraphii*-al indications when more fully 
invt^ticatiil and l^ttrr understo»"Hl. 

This A-s^TiMtv of tomb's iu the western part of the Roman empire w 
to a gn\it oxtont niado uj* f»^r in the oast, but the history- of those 
onvti^l under the Kuuian ruK* in that |xirt of the world is as yet so 
litth* known that it is n.»t ta>y either to classify or to describe them : 
and as nearly all th«ip<^ which liavo K-en pn«serve<l are cut in the rock, it 
IN m^motinii^s dillioult- as with other r»K'k-out objects all over the world 
. -to understand the f.»nu of buildiuir from which they wei-e copied. 

The thnv priuci|v»l jrix^nv; of tomlw of the 1 Soman epoch arc those 
of IVtra. Tyn^ne, and .hrusiiUni. Thoujrh many other important tombs 
exist in tlu^* o^un tries, tiny are s<» little known that they must be 
i>aM«e«l over for the piWMiil. 

Fnuu the time wlion .Vbnihain was laid in the cave of Machpelah 
until after the rhrisliau era. we kmm- that burying in the rock \va8 not 
the exiN»ption but the p^nenil pi-actiiv among the nations of this part of 
tho Kwt, S»» far as I'an U* known, the example was set bj- Egj-pt, 
ih WIS the i^rent of much o( their civiliaition. In Eg^vpt the 
of their nvk-eut tomlw wnx'-wiih the solitary exception of 

[. IV. Ch. V. 


thoso of Beni Hasean' — ornamented so eimply and unobtrusively ao 
rather to belie than to announce their internal magnificence. All the 
oiliest Asiatic tombs seem to have been mere holcn in the rock, wholly 
without architectural decorations. 

We have at 
Slides to ad 01 

n, liowevcr, how the Persian kings copied their palace 
. their last resting-places, and how about tlio Ranic time 

' Sec p. U!l, HDil wnoilcut 14. 


j:"MAN A];<.H]T}:«T1]:H 

TArT 1. 

•■ I 

y ■ 

— *-• 




ftH'i rif:- rw,'irl- "^- .ir .LivvTuntl fji^^^ir^. "whi'i-h iLi'T had learned iV-m 
ilir «ir-'*k-» L -«v T- .:v:i^Tri;:T- Um ii wa** tjot till "iLi- Roman peri-^i 
T L 1 : : : . > *;►•-:—» i ill i jT:i£ ■• i: ■• ■ •. x v.-n ■ ie«3 to The pi »c*?s eiiiiTii»-rair- i 
ft'r* vv : wL- li. '■■■ -■;■":. .iTi •jxttI:: '^.il n pr^rrii] ai IVrra a* to pvt: to ih^»: 
3i "w .:•■-»': r:*.-: v.,*:]. y -[':.• 'ijt*- .irin'v vf a p.-Trifi^>i citv of iht- dvik'}. 

Tl' lyi . v.l :■.:,! ::j -■»: }«-.ri!:f'il ^-inl' «f This placv i* thaT call*>i 
Tiiv KL»-'^- r T:-. j-:rv- f I'?; irrv}. -r-pr-.-s*.iiTt-d in oli-TAtion and 

NecT'ion in ihi- annexed wocde^!^ 
X..S. 2l'4 and 22:.. As wOl l^ 
•*ec-n. it o>n>i>Ts of a ^uane base- 
iiivTiT. «'fL 'mt-d with a p«>rtico nf 
fnir vrr\- l«i-anrifiil Corinthian 
p:i:.i!>, >iinn' •'unT<*d bv a pedi- 
ii;ti.: '■{ l-t\v Grwian pitch. 
AV. .y.- tLis ai>? thrc-e vc-rv sin- 
::T:L«r T^'irrt-T*, th».- use and appli- 
•.iTi'.ji "f whioh it is oxtrenii-lv 


•xinLUi: to imdorgitand. The 

■ rntral • no i> L-ircuLir. and i-^ 

■ 1 a wvll-r.ndvi>t'> d fi^pulehral 
f Ti:i. thv ut^.' of which, had it 
f»Tn nivrv iiuprirtanr, or h;id it 
>:■ -.d Jil'.-rn.-. w.'iild have- Ix-tu in- 
TvlIijiMv tnouirh: but what an* 
::.'• «.::•■ t:;rr«.Tii ? If iiit- mi'jht 
!. »z. vid s«i l» M ii t^^njivtnri?, I 
w -.;M ^Ti^.:>t th-it the orijrin:il 
tV la w!:i..h thi^ :< di-rivod was 
cx r.v turrvttd :• :uK like that «»f 

* A r^ 1 r: > ( w . i.. •.! o u : N o. 1 ♦ »S ). or t ha t 
of AiV iTivs at S.4!«li.s. which in 
' 1 r m:- • f til lie K-o-ame t m ii sla t eil 
into so foreiirn a sh.ip:- a< th> ; 1 •;: wV.-r*- arv th- int»nu'.iiiit«* fomis; 
and by whvau and wh. u win :h:-. • :. -.i-.j:-.- t!:\-:vil : rVf'.ce forming any 
theoric«» i»n thi^ >iib>/\r, it will )•. w- 11 t- i ■ u^ider whether all those 
buildinpi n-idly are t.i!il'<': >[. >t -f t!:-. r.i r.nd- -ul'te^ily are .***-»: but 
mav not tho name *I D-ir. ..r tli » \».v-. ii:. iii-tlivd l-v the Antl»s to cmo 
of tho prinei]vd n-v.-k^.Ti: in -in:!:;- litn .f IVrra. U- after all tho tnie 
detdgnation '.' Are n- ii'.- ^■t tii» !u. :r. >\.i-t. o '.!> f r priests, liko the 
vikanu foimd iu hulia ■ All th. — ■ w'... luive !i::h-. r:.' viMtoil thosi^ spirts 
have iuttiuuu*il at onv.v that evervii.iu^ eur in t!':- nvk must K* a tomb, 
but I am much mistaken if this is hmUv xIl-.- » !<* with all. 

To return however to the Kli:i>iu'. Th nch all the f.^rras of the 
itoctnn* are Komau. ihe details are <•■ »l..t:.iiit an'l jri-uerallv sii 

■ I 


:i::i> IIOMAN ARCHlTEfTrnF. P*rT L 

well dt-sipni^l as itlmoAt to !e«d to the aiispicion that there miwt have 
Uvii s'liii' lirxviaii inflwouw bronght to bear upon the work. Tbe 
iiLiMicn <'( nxk K-fl nlmvi- tiip wings show how carl; a Gpecimen of iu 
i-l.iw it is. iiixl h»w littU' yimcticc itii dciiigiicrs could have had in 
>■>>(>> in.; ill tlio nvk ilu' fonnx of their regular buildings. 

\ littk- t'lirtiicr witliin the city is fonnd another veiy Bimilar in 
•k'>it:Ti t.> this, but tiir iiiforior to it in detail and cxccutioii.aDd ahoving 
,ir t,,ist ,1 iviiturv of ilfptailatiiin, thongb at the Bame time presenting 
ttt .III it't.itioii t<< nn-k-i-iit f'lniut not found in the earlier examples. 

\ tliint ts itK>ve ulliitKtl U\ calk-d el Deir. This is the same 
ill ^ tuniL i<[it!iin- ;is tho iwn fiinuer — of an order neither Greek nor 
Kt'itici. I'lit with S'iiK'thiii>: like n Doric frieze over a very plain 
('.■•■iitliMii i-.t[ntiil. Ill otluT rx'BixvtB it presents no new featui? 
^■\^^-l't thi' ,i]'(\inut ;ilv.t lu'i' uf a diior, and on the whole it seems, if 
(iii:«(;iil, t.' iK-*ivf its tijiitf Uss than either of the otlier two, 

IV:h,i{i(4 iln- tu.*t >iii,i;iiLir obj.ft among these tombs, if tombe ibey 
i!i-, i-' ihv ti..;i.U- ttith thrw »t"r»\v8 i^f pillars one over the other— 
»Iii;!!'\ ! in tliv Uft of tho tVriuthian tomb in the hist womlcnt 
. \.'. ::•'•'. h ■> liki- rhv pnisvniiim t^f winie of the more recent Greek 
ilv-ir-i-. If :: w;(r. ivaliv the ^^'■llti^pit■ce to n tomb, it wan totalij- 
iiit*::!.i1>io t,> ilv {'tii[<>'w. iitul is ivrtiiinly one of the moet complete 
iii»il-[:;i.M!i.ii» I'f *;i\vk jtvhitivmrc ever made. 

i;vn i:iK_\ Njv.iliiii!;, t\w iiitiriots \.'{ these buildingH are so plain that 

UK. IV. ch. v. 



jDiL«.r m IlK l>]«!np)i 

travellers have not cared either to draw or measure tliem ; one, how- 
ever, represented in the annexed woodcut (No. 227), is richly ornamented, 
and, aa for as can be judged from what is published, is as unlike a tomb as 
it is like a tihara. But, aa before remarked, they all require re esumina- 
tion before the purpose for which 
they were cut can be pronounce*! 
npon with imy certainty 

The next group of tombs i 
that at Juruealcm Thceo ar 
undoubtedly all Bcpulchree. P\ 
far the greater number ot thtni 
are whjllj d<.\oid of archittt 
tural ornament To the north 
of the cit} ;a a group known a^ 
the tombs of the kmgB with a 
fo^de of a corrupt Done order 
simdar to some of the tattst 
Etiuscan tombs.' These are now 
vcrymiich ruined, but still retain 
sufficient traces of the original 
design to fix their date within 
or Bubseqiiently to the Ilerodiaii 
period without much possibility 
of d^^bt, A somewhat similaj- 
&9a''e, but of a form more like the 
Grcik Doric, found in the ValJej- 
of Jehosbapbat, bears the name of 
tlie Scpnlchro of St. James. 

Close to this is a square tomb, 
known as that of Zechariah, cut 
in the rock, but standing free. 
Each face is well adorned with 
Ionic pillars and square piei-x 
at the angles, the whole being 
crowned with a pymmidal roof. .^..., s^„„«,-r™botz«:h.ri.h." 

Pol haps this building ehould pro- 
perly bo called a cenotaph, as it is perfectly solid, and no cave or 
sepulchral vault baa been found beneath it, thoiigh judging from 
analogies oiie might yet bo found if properly looked for. A tomb with 

' M. de SouUy has recently allempted 
to prove Ihiit tliese tomhg ere those of tlie 
kings of Judoh from Daviil downwiirda. 
Their arvliikrcture ia unrloubledly as liit« 
■H Uit Chrittinn en, and the cover of tlie 

Mrcnpliagua wliioh is now in tho Louvre 
under the title of that of Ebvid is pro- 
bably of tlio same date, or if anything 


an architocturni fa^ailc, tiiinitar to thut of the BO-callcd Tomb of tlio 
Judges, dues exist behind it cut in rock, and is consequently of more 
modem constniction. It may be to mark tbia that the architectural 
Btnictuie was left. 

Close to this is another identical with it in as far as the basement 
is concerned, and ^yhich is now 
popularly known as the Tomb 
of Absalom; but in thieinBtance 
the pyramid has been replaced 
with a structural spire, and it is 
probable when this was done 
that the chamber which now ex- 
ists in i te interior was oxcnvated. 
(.'no of the remarkable pointjs 
in thetM tombs is the curious 
jumble of the lEomau orders 
which thej- present. The pillars 
and pilastersaro Ionic, the archi- 
traves and frieze Doric, and the 
cornice Egj-ptian. The capitals 
and frieze are m distinctly late 
Itoman. that we can feel no hesi- 
tation as to their date being 
either of the age of Herod or 
sulisi.'fpK'iit to that time. In an 
architectural point of view the 
cornice in too plain to be pleasing 
if not painted ; it therefore may 
probably have been so. 

Another class of these tonihs 
is represented by the so called 
Tomb of the Judges (woodcut 
No.2:J2). 'lliesoaroomamcnt^-d 
liy a tympantmi of a Greek or 
lioman temple filled with a 
scroll-work of rich but debased 
pattern, and is evidently de- 
rived from something similar, 
fhongh Grecian in design. Its 
ago is certainly inferior to that 
of the Tomb of Zechariab, as 
one of preciNcly similar design 
is found cut into the face of tlic 
rock otit of whiili tiiat monii. 
mcnt was excavated. 

Hk. IV. C'H. V. TOMBS. 333 

Tho tlird group is that of Cyrene, on the African coaet Notwith- 
Ktaoding the researches of Admiral Beechey and of M, Faoho, and tho 
still more recent explorations of 
Messrs. Smith and Porcher, they 
are stilt much less perfectly 
known to us than they should 
ho. Their number is immense, 
and they almost alJ have archi- 
tectural facades, generally con- 
sisting of two or more columns 
between pilasters, like tlie grottos iilffc' 
of Boni Hassan, or the tomb of 
St. James at Jerusalem. Many 

of them show powerful evidence of Greek tasto, while some may he as 
old as the Grecian eiu, though the greater part are rmdouhtedly oi 
Roman date, and the paintingswithwhichmany of them are still adorned 
aie certainly Roman in design. Two of them are illustrated above 
(woodcuts Xos. 167 and 158), One as showing more distinct evidence 
of Greek taslo and colour than is to be found elsewhere, though it is 
doubtful if it belongs to the Grecian period any more than tho so-called 
Tomb of St. James at Jerusalem ; the other, though of equally uncertain 
date, is interesting as being a circular monument built over a cave like 
that at Amrith (woodcut No. 114), and is the ouly other example now 
known. None of them have such splendid architectural facades as the 
Khaan^ atl'etra; but the number of touihs which are adorned with archi- 
tectural features is greater than in that city, and, grouped as ihey are 
together in teiTaces on the hill-side, they cunstitiite a necmpolis which 
is among the most striking of the ancient world. Alti^ether the group 
somewhat resembles tliat at Castel d'Asso, but is more extensive and far 
richer in external arch i lecture.' 

Tinie has not left us any perfect stnictural tombs in all those 
places, though there can be little doubt but they were once numerous. 
Almost the only tomb of this class constructed in masonry known to 
exist, and which in many i-eKj>ects is perhaps the most interesting of all, 
is found in Asia Minor, at Mylassa in Caria. In fonu it is something 
like the free standing rock-eut examples at Jerusalem. As shown in 
the woodcut (No. 2:J3), it consists of a square base,- which supports 

' Tliougli tilt (lutes of all tliceo tombe culty ia, tbut a diroDomotric Bcalo taknn 
at CyrtQU are so uiiet-rtain, tlicrc sccuia from tho buildings at Boiuo, or even in 
little doubt that if uuy one tliorougbly Sjiis, will iiot liutfice. I/icul ix^uuliaritivs 
versed in llie stylo wi'ro to visit Ihc place, must bo tnkou into iiciount anil allowed 
ho cnulil fix tlie ugu of all of Uium witli I for, aiul Ibis n.'c|uires botli time and judg- 
approiimntc cuitevtiiciu. Tiio onu dilH- < meut. 

l»*1tAS AEtHrrEl.TLRE. 


■:i wiuL'h the oght inner oqm snpport • dome, the 
:v o:aic[c:in£ the «iure. The dome iaelf is oa- 
"•■'■* icikiLstr »f all the JaiuA domes are in India 'w 
-i *Ei:rv-Arv:r . ami. thot^ onuiik.«ted with Roman 
■j.- trr!r-Ti^ ebe eTcF bttOt bv that {Kople, and is w 
«rrV^ 'It vbkt w« find re-appearing ten cvntniies after- 
r t*i-z. diic «e aK f jnxd to cuoclode that it belongs 
.: .kBf! l>.-ng £ied in that lands, tboogh this <ne 
- i;n-ng- Kpies^^nttttive oS its data. 

i.'.iT :"^ «yU-, tfai^D^ remotely dis- 
,. ri,i»r T-a=:*^ in .\&i<M. ITik. toi\ 
kT. i:i U>: U.«i example. Entmonnted 
7f !-.;rv sitTk^y u^wd as omamcntB. 
rii A- -.S- i::flt'» like that at Jem- 
fie ;bf E^i^i&r. f.>nn of the cornice 

Uk. IV. Ch. V. 



ia similar to that found in these examples, though with the omisxioti of 
the Doric frieze. 

It appareatly originally torminated in a pyramid of steps like 
the mausoleum at 
Ilalicamassus, and a 
large number of struc- 
tural tombs which co- 
pied that celebratod 
model. Nothing of 
this now rcokains but 
the four comer stones 
which were architec- 
tui-ally modt esbcn 
tial to accentudti, the 
weak lines of a ^Iop 
ing pyramid in such 
a situation. 1 aken 
altogether, perhaps 
no more graceful mo 
nument of its class 


our days than tl is 

raustt have been u hen 

complete. If it hasa 

rival it is probably 

the tomb at bt R^mi 

in Franco (woodcut ,j,. Ton^.tihiggiL i r™« drawing by F.athwwood. 

No. 222). They are 

Iioth very beautiful, and well worthy the study of those who i 

designing monuments of this class. 

Domestic ARCHiTtcruHK. 

AVe know, not only fi'om the descriptions and incidental notices 
that have come down to us, but also from the remaina found at 
Pompeii and elsewhere, that the private dwellings of the Homans wore 
characterised by that magnificence and splendour which wa find in all 
their works, accompanied, probably, with more than the usual amount 
of bad taste. No palace except that at Spalatro has been preserved to 
our day, nor any building of a class coming under the head of domestio 
art 1 still, so much is to bo Wmt from what does remain, that it is 
impossible to pass over the subject altogether. 

In Rome itself no ancient house — indeed no trace of a domestic 
edi£co — eiiata except the Palace of the Ctesars on the Palatine Mount ; 
and this even is now merely a heap of shapeless ruin, so much so 


indei'd as t4) have defied even the most imaginative of roatorers to make 
anything «.»£ it except a vehicle for the display of their own ingenuity. 
The extent of these ruins, coupled with the descriptionB that have been 
pn*8erved, suflSoe to convince us that, of all the palaces ever built, 
either in the East or the West, this ^-as probably the most magni- 
ficvnt and the most gorgeously adorned. Never in the world's histoiy 
dues it apjK^r thiit so much wealth and power were at the oommand 
c»f line niitn as was the case with the Caesars; and never oomld the 
w«irld's Wealth have fiillen into the hands of men more inclined to 
lavish it for their own i)ersonal gratification than these emperors were. 
They could, mortH^>ver, ransack the whole world for plunder to adorn 
their buildings, and they could command the artists of Greece, and of 
all the subjt^ct kingiloms, to assist in rendering their golden palaces 
the most gorgeiais that the world had then seen, or is likely ever to 
see again. 

Notwithstanding all this splendour, this palace w^as probably as an 
arehiti'ctunil ol»jei't inferior to the Thermal. The thousand and one 
exigencies i»f i»nvate life render it impossible to impart to a residence 
— even to that <.»f the world's master — the same character of grandeur 
as may Iv given to a building wholly devoted to show and public 
puqH»>es. In its glory the Palace of the Caesars must have been the 
world s wonder : but as a ruin deprived of its furniture and ephemeral 
splendour, it prv»l»al>ly would present nothing either pleasing or in- 
struetivo. >>'e must nc»t l(.K>k for either beauty of proportion or per- 
fection of e«.»u.struetiou, nor even for appi*opriatenc88 of material, in 
the hastily constructed halls i»f men whose unbounded power was only 
etiualled by the coarse vulg;uity of their characters. 


The only palace of the Koman world of which sufficient remains 
are still left to enable us to judge either of its extent or arrange- 
ments is that wliieh Ditn^letian built for himself at Spalatro, in Dal- 
matia, and in which he spent the remaining yeare of his life, after 
shaking off* the cares of empire. It certsiinly gives us a most exalted 
idea of what the splendour cjf the imperial jxilaco at Rome must have 
been when wo find one emjxTor — certaiidy neither the richest nor the 
most powerful — building, for his retii-enient, a villa in the country 
of almost exactly the same dimensions as the Escurial in Spain, and 
consequently surpjissing in size, as it did in magnificence, most of the 
modem palaces of Europe. 

It is imcertain how far it resembles or was copied from that in 
Home, more especially as it must be regarded as a fortified palace, 
which there is no roison to believe tluit at Home was, while its model 
would seem to have been the pnetoiian camp rather than any habitation 

Bk. IV. Ch. V. 



built within tho protection of the city walls. In consequence of this 
its exterior is plain and solid, except on the side next the sea, where 
it was least liable to attack. The other three sides are only broken 
by the towers that flank them, and by those that defend the great gates 
which oijen in the centre of each face. 



'"|.;j I u TTTTnr ir TH mTmr n ! H.J 



Palace of Diocletian at Spalatra From Adtuiu. 

The building is nearly a regular parallelogram, though not quite so. 
The south side is that facing the sea, and is 592 ft. from angle to 
angle ; the one opposite being only 570 in length ;' while the east and 
west sides measure each G98 ft, the whole building thus covering about 
9^ English ticres. 

The principal entrance to the palace is on the north, and is called the 

' By an oversight this difference is not expressed in the woodcut. 
VOL. /.' Z 

nuMAS AKcuni-xrruitR 


Golden Grate, and an represented in the annexed woodcut (No. 286), 
shows all the peculiarities of Roman architecture in its last stage. The 
horizontal architrave still remains over the doorway, a useless orna- 
ment, under a bold discharging arch, which usurps its place and does 
its duty. Above this, a row of Corinthian columns, standing on 
brackets, supports the archi volts of a range of niches — a piece of 
pleasing deooration, it must be confessed, but one in which the 
original purpose of the column has been entirely overlooked or 

Entering this portal, we pass along a street ornamented with 
arcades on either side, till exactly in the centre of the building this 
is crossed at right angles by another similar street, proceeding from 
the so-called Iron and Brazen Gates, which are similar to the Golden 
Gate in design, but are far less richly ornamented. 

These streets divided the building into four portions : those to the 
north are so much ruined that it is not now easy to trace their plan, or 
to say to what purpose they were dedicated; but probably the one 
might have been the lodgings of the guests, the other the residence of 
the principal oflBcers of the household. 

The whole of the southern half of the building was devoted to the 
palace properly so called. It contained two temples, as they are now 
designated. That on the right is said to have been dedicated to Jupiter, 
though, judging from its fomi, it would appear to hiive been designed 
rather as the mausoleum of the founder than as a tom})le of that god. 
As a temple it has been illustrated at a previous page.' Opjx>site to it 
is another small temple, dedicated, it is said, to ^Esculapius. 

Between these two is the arcade represented in wfKxlcut No. 177, 
at the upper end of which is the vestibule — circular, as all buildings 
dedicated to Vesta, or taking their name from that goddess, should be. 
ITiis opened directly on to a magnificent suite of nine aj>artments, 
occupying the principal part of the south front of the pilace. Beyond 
these, on the right hand, were the private apartments of the emjxjror, 
and behind them his baths. The opposite side is restored as if it 
exactly corresponded, but this is more than doubtful ; and, indeed, 
there is scarcely sufficient authority for many of the details shown in 
the plan, though they are, prol)ably, on the whole, sufficiently exact to 
convey a general idea of the arrangements of a Eoman imperial palace. 

l*erhaps, however, the most splendid feature in this jmlaee was 
the great southern galleiy, 515 ft. in length by 24 in width, ex- 
tending along the whole seaward face of the building. Besides its 
own intrinsic beauty as an architectural feature, it evinces an ap- 
preciation of the beauties of nature which one would hardly expect 
in a Koman. This great galleiy is the principal point in the design. 

> Sec p. 288. 

z 2 

;4^ • h .'Man AR«: HirECTTKE. Part I. 

arj-l '■ riiijjirii- a vi^w w-.-ll w...riliy tLv rT»<-tkrti iA nK-b a gallerr for its 

P'ailiijj t" 'iiwi-Ter any exaiuplv of d<.>mt«^t2e architecture in Rome, 
w.; rjrij T'> IViiij^'ii aiil HercTilaiK-'aiii. where we find nnnieiDiis and 
ijj -fit iiiT^r»^iiii:: •-x;iiiij«l»> *•{ h'^use* ••£ all elasRes. except, perhaps, 
\hr ]»t : f ..r th'.T*.- is nothing theiv to ccoapare with the Ldmrentian 
vilLi if riinv. -T \*-iTh *»r •".•thei>' i-if which descTiptions have ooiue 
d'jvrti x*t u?s. V' iiij^.-ii. ni'.»n>jvt-r. was iar more a Grecian than a Homan 
rity. aii'l it> l'^iiMin^> "Uirht to T»i: o»ii<i'itred rather as illustratiTe ot 
x]i'f^r of (^in.-»><v. "F at lvAr.t of Ma^a<Tr8ecia. than of anything found 
to tli'; Ti'H-thwapl. ^til. thi.-v: citie^ Klonged t«» the Komau age, and» 
('\<y']ti in ta-t*- an«l in minor arrangement.N. we have no reaison to doubt 
t)jat rh«- l^uil'lincr-* «3iJ r»>*nil'l- th«»>e of I*ome. at least to a soflScient 
• xt'-nt f'."!' illii*Tr;iti"n. 

\N ith fj'^'iio.'ly an exc>-[»tiun. all tlie houisies of Pompeii were of 
ono j?ton-y only in h'-i^ht. It i> true that in sc*me we find stair- 
<-av;.s b.-adinj; to tb*.- nj^f. and traces uf an upper storey, but where this 
Iatt»r is xho <m^' the ay»artinent.s would appear to have been places for 
wa^liinj^ and drj-ing clothes, or fur K>me such domestic purpose, rather 
tliiiu fnr livin;j: or even >k-«^pin;; rc-juis. All the principal apartments 
w«'re t.-^.rtainly rin the ;rronnd flt.N. ir. and as an almost inevitable corollair 
fri^ni this, they all fiic«;d inwards, and were lightc-d from eourt'-vards 
or atriiL niA not fn«ni the outbide : for, with a people who had not glass 
with wlii«li to ^laze their windows, it was impossible to enjoy privacy 
or wx'unty withcmt at the Kinie time excluding both light and air, 
r»t lierwiwi than l>y lighting: tluir roc»ms from the interior. Hence it 
aroM* that in most instances the outside of the better class of hotises 
was giv<.*n up to sliojis and smaller dwellings, which opened on to the 
street, wliile the residence, with the exceptii.»n of the principal entrance, 
and wrtnetimes one or twu juivate dc»ors that <.»pened outwards, was 
wholly liMdrn fmm view l;v them. 

Kven in the wuallest cliiss of tmdesmen's houses which opened on 
the stn.*et, one apartment se-ems always to have been left unroofed to 
light at hrust two rooms on each side of it, used as bedrooms; but as 
tlie TiHjfH of all are now gone, it is not always easy to determine 
which wjis so treated. 

It is ci'rtain that, in tin* smallest houses which can have belonged 
to ]>ersoris at all alx;ve the class of shc»pkeejK'rs, there was always a 
central apirtment, unr<K)f(cl in the centre, into which the others opened. 
Sometimes this was coveied by two lK*ams placed in one direction, 
and two crossing them at right angles, framing the roof into nine 
(KjniiNirtmcnts, generally of unequal dimeiisicms, the central one being 
ojxiu, and with a corresixmding sinking in the floor to receive the 
rain and dniinage which inevitably came through it. When this 
court was of any extent, finir pillars wen^ required at the interscc- 

Bb. IV. Ch. V. 



tion of the beams, or angles of the opening, to support the roof. 
In larger courts eight, twelve, sixteen, or more columns were so 
employed, often apparently more as decorative objects than as re- 
quired by the constructive necessities of the case, and very frequently 
the numbers of these on either side of the apartment did not correspond. 
Frequently the angles were not right angles, and the pillars were 
spaced unequally with a careless disregard of symmetrj- that strikes us 
as strange, though in such cases this may have been preferable to cold 
and fonnal regularity, and even more productive of grace and beauty. 
Besides these courts, there geneially existed in the rear of the house 
another bounded by a dead wall at the further cxtremitj', and which 
in the smaller houses was painted, to resemble the garden which the 
latter mansions possessed iu this direction. The apartments looking 
on this court were of course perfectly private, which cannot bo said of 
any of those looking inwaids on the atrimii. 

The house called that of Pansa at Pompeii is a good illustration 
of these peculiarities, and as one of the most regular is generally 
chosen for the purpose of illustration. 

In the annexed plan (woodcut No. 237) all the parts that do not 
belong to the principal mansion are shaded darker except the doubtfol 
part marked A, which may either have 
been a separate house, or the women's 
apartments belonging to the principal 
one, or what is oven more probable, it 
may have been designed so as to bu used 
for either purpose, b is certainly a 
separate house, and the whole of the 
remainder of this side, of the front, and 
of the third side, till wo come oppositt- 
to A, was let off as shops. At c wo 
have tho kitchen and servants' apart- 
ments, with a private entrance to the 
street, and an opening also to the prin- 
cipal peristyle of the house. 

Bctuming to the principal entrance 
or front door 1>, you enter through a 
short passage into the outer court E, on 
each side of which are several small ' 
apartments, used oitlicr by the inferior ■ 
members of the household or by g 
A wider passage than the entrance leads | 
from this to the peristyle, or principal 
apartment of tho house. On the left 
hand are several small rooms, used no 
doubt as sleeping apartments, and \ 

e probably closed by half-doore 


open ubovo and 1m1(>w, wi ns to admit air and light, while prt»fiorvinjr 
huffiricnt jjiivacv, f«n* I Ionian tastos at least. In front and on the ri;rht 
hand are two largtr imnns. either t>f whi<;h may have het^n tho tricli- 
nium or diniii«]:-r(Kim, the other In'ing what we should i-all the drawinp- 
njtuii of tln' hon.s<'. A ]Bi.vsjige l)etween tlie kitehen and the central nvim 
leads to a vi-raiidali whieh crosses tho whole length of the house, and ik 
«>]K-n to tlie gjirden Inyond. 

As will 1m' ol>s4'rvrd, arehitectiiml offei't has been carefully studied 
ill this desijrn. a vista nearly 8<>o ft. in K'ligth l>eing obtained from the 
oiitrr door to tlu" garden wall, varied by a pleasing play of light and 
sliade, and dih]>laying a gradually increasing degree of spacionsneKs 
and arehiteetunil rii'hness as we advanci\ All these points miuit have 
1»een ])r<Kliietive of tlar most pleasing effect when complete, and of more 
beauty than has In-eii attained in almost any nuKlem dwolling of like 

(Generally s]K>akiiig tlie are]iit<H'tural details of the Pompeian lurases 
are eareh'ssly and uiigi*aeefiil]y moulded, though it cannot be demed 
that Htinetimes a certain elegance of filling runs through them that 
pleases in spite of (»iir Ik'tter judgment. It war not, however, on form 
that they d<']M'iided for their eft'eet ; and consequently it ia not by Uiat 
that tln'V must l»e judgeil. The whole architecture of tho hoiMe was 
coloured, but even this was not ctaisidertHl so important as the paintingB 
which coven-d the iiat surfaciss of the walls, ('omparing tho Pompeian 
decoration with that of tlie baths (»f Titus, the only specimen of the 
same age and (riass found in hVaiie, it must be admitted that the Pom- 
|)eian examples show a nunv correct tjiste, not only in the choice but 
in the applicratitai of the ornaments usi^l. though in the execution there 
is often that ditVerence that might Ik* exjK*ctiil lK*tween paintings cxe- 
eutitl for a private individual and those for the Emperor of tho Roman 
world. Notwithstanding this, thesi' ]iiiintings, so wonderfully pre- 
stTVed in this small ]u-ovincial t»»wn, are even now the best B(x*cimous 
we iH>ssess of munil dei'c nation. They excel tho ornamentation of the 
Alhambra as In-ing more varied and nu»n' intellectual. For the same 
reason thev are suiN'vior t«» the works of the siime class executtnl bv the 
Moslems in Kgypt and Persia, and they are far 8Ui>erior to the rude 
attempts of the <Jotliie architects in the middle ages; still they ar*^ 
probably as inferior to what the <Jreeks did in their best days as the 
pillars (jf the Pompeian p'ristyles are to the p>rticos of the Parthenon. 
Ihit though doubtless far inferior to their oiiginals, those at Pompeii 
are direx^t imi tuitions of true (ire(.'k deconitive forms ; and it is through 
them alone that we can f<»rm even the most remote idea of the exquisite 
lieauty to which j)«»ly chroma tic archittrture once attained, but which 
we can scarcely venture to Iiojm? it will ever reach again. 

One curious ]K)int, which has hith»*rto K-eii too much overlooked, 
is tliat in PomjM^ii there an- tw«» jMifectly distin«»t styles of decoration. 

Rk. IV. Ch. V. 



One of thfiM is purely Etruscan, bjth in funn and colour, uud hucL as 
M only foiitid in the tombs or on the authentic works of the EtruKcanH. 
Tho other is no less cHscntially Greek, both in design and colour : it is 
far more common than tho Etruscan form, and is always c.iKiIy to l>e 
distinguished from it. Tho lotit mentioned or Greek style of decoration 
may be t^ain divided into two varietie-s : one, the most common, con- 
sisting of oinamenis directly copit'd from Greek models ; the other with 
a considerable infusion of 1,'mnaii forms. This lIomauiKcd variety of 

Greek decoration represents an attenuated and lean style of arehitceture, 
wh:ch could only have come into fashion from the continued use of iron 
or bronze, or other metallic substancew, for pillars and other urcbi- 
tectitral members. Vitruvitis reprobates it : and in a later age (,'assio- 
donis speaks of it in a manner which Khows tlint it was praoticied in his 
time. Tho general adoption of this class of oinament, both at I'ompeii 
and in the baths of Titus, proves it to have liei-n a very favourite style 
at that time. Thin being the case, it must have either been a repre- 


sentation of metallic pillars and other architectural objects then in use, 
or it must have been copied from painted decorations. This is a new 
subject, and cannot be made clear, except at considerable length and 
with the assistance of many drawings. It seems, however, an almost 
undoubted fact that the Romans did use metal as a constmctiTe 
material. Were it only that columns of extreme tenuity are repre- 
sented in these paintings, we might be inclined to ascribe it to mere 
incorrect drawing; but the whole style of ornament here shown is 
such as is never found in stone or brick pillars, and which is only 
susceptible of execution in metal. Besides this, the pillars in question 
are always shewn iu the decorations as though simply gilt or bronzed. 
while the representations of stone pillars are coloured. All this evidence 
goes to prove that a style of art once existed in which metal was gene- 
rally employed in all the principal features, all material traces of which 
are now lost, Tlio disappearance of all remains of such a style is easily 
accounted for by the perishable nature of iron from rust, and the value 
and consequent peculation induced by bronze and similar metals. We 
arc, moreover, aware that much bronze has been stolen, even in recent 
days, from the Pantheon and other buildings which are knowTi to have 
been adorned with it. 

Another thing which we learn from these paintings is, that though 
the necessities of street architecture comi>elled these city mansions to 
take a rectilinear outline, whenever the Roman architects built in the 
country' they indulged in a picturesque variety of outline and of form 
which they eairied perhaps as far as even the Gothic architects of the 
middle ages. This indeed we might have expected, from their care- 
lessness in resix?et to regularity in their town-houses ; but these were 
interiors, and were it not for the }>ainted represt^ntations of houses we 
should have no means of judging Ik)w the Siiuie architects would treat 
an exterior in the eountiy. From this source, however, we learn that 
in the exterior arrangtnuents, in situations where they were not 
cramped by confined s]Xici.', their plans were totally free from all stiff- 
ness and formality. In this respect Roman taste coincided wath that of 
all true architecture in all parts of the world. 

p]ach part of the design was left to tell hs own tale and to express 
the use to which eticli apartment was applied, though the whole were 
probably groupcsl together with some reference to ^Tumetry. There is 
certiiinly nothing in these ancient examples to justify the precise regu- 
larity which the architects of the RenaissiUice introduced into their 
classical designs, in which they sought to obliterate all distinctiou 
between the coni|K>nL'nt parts in a vain attempt to make one great 
whole out of a great numlxT of small discordant fragments. 


Bridges and Aqueducts. 

Perhaps the most satisfactory works of the Romans are those which 
we consider as belonging to civil engineering rather than to architec- 
ture. The distinction, however, was not known in those earlier days. 
The Romans set about works of this class with a purpose-like earnest- 
ness that always ensured success, and executed them on a scale which 
leaves nothing to be desired; while at the same time they entirely 
avoided that vulgarity which their want of refinement allowed almost 
inevitably to appear in more delicate or more ornate buildings. Their 
engineering works also were free from that degree of incompleteness 
which is inseparable from the state of transition in which their archi- 
tecture was during the whole period of the Empire. It is owing to 
these causes that the substructions of the Appian Way strike every 
beholder with admiration and astonishment ; and nothing impresses 
the traveller more, on visiting the once imperial city, than the long 
lines of aqueducts that are seen everywhere stretching across the now 
arid plain of the Campagna. It is true they are mere lines of brick 
arches, devoid of ornament and of every attempt at architecture pro- 
perly so called ; but they are so well adapted to the purpose for which 
they were designed, so grand in conception, and so perfect in execution, 
that in spite of their want of architectural character they are among 
the most beautiful of the remains of Roman buildings. 

The aqueducts were not however all so devoid of architectural design 
as those of the Campagna. That, for instance, known as the Pont du 
Gard, built to convey water to the town of Nimes in France, is one of the 
most striking works of antiquity. Its height above the stream is about 
180 ft., divided into two tiers of larger arches surmounted by a range of 
smaller ones, giving the stnicture the same finish and effect that an 
entablature and cornice gives to a long range of columns. Without 
the introduction of one single ornament, or of any member that was not 
absolutely wanted, this arrangement converts what is a mere utilita- 
rian work into an architectural screen of a beauty hitherto unrivalled 
in its class. 

The aqueducts of Segovia and Tarragona in Spain, though not per- 
haps so grand, are quite as elegant and appropriate as this ; and if they 
stood across a line of well wooded and watered valleys, might fonn as 
beautiful objects. Unfortunately the effect is much marred by the 
houses and other objects that crowd their bases. Both these rise to 
about 100 ft. above the level of their foundation in the centre. That of 
Segovia is raised on light piers, the effect of which is perhaps somewhat 
spoiled by numerous off*sets, and the upper tier is if anything too light 
for the lower. These defects are avoided at Tarragona, the central arches 
of which are shown in woodcut No. 240. In this example the pro- 
portion of the upper to the lower arcade is more perfect, and the whole 




bears a ohnrapter of lightnesB combined with cunstrnctive Foliditv and 
elegance unrivalled, so &r as I know, in any other work of its class. 
It wants, huwtYcr, the grandeur of tho Pont du Gard ; fi>r thdo^ its 
length is about the mue, exceeding 800 fL, it has nedtber its faei^t nor 
the impression of power given by the great arches of that building, 
especially when contrasted with the small ones. 

The bridges were designed on the eamc grand scale as their 
aqueducts, though fivni their nature they of course could not posses 
the same gmcc and lightness. This was, however, more than com- 
pensate^ by their inherent solidity and by the manifestation of strength 
imparted by tho Komans to all these etmctures. They seem to have 
been designed to last for over ; and but for the violence of man. it 
would be hardly possible to set limits to their durability. Alany still 
remain in alnioBt every corner of the Itoman Empire ; and wherever 
found are eaKily recognisi>d by the immiatakcable impress of Itoman 
grandeur which is Bfamjied ujHin them. 

One of tho most remarkable of these is tliat which Trajan erected at 
Alcantara, in Spain, repn>sente<l in the aunesed woodcut Tho road- 


way is perfectly level, as is generally the case in Roman bridges, 
though the mode by which this is obtained, of springing the arches 
from different levels, is perhaps not the most pleasing. To us at least 
it is unfamiliar, and has never, I think, been adopted in modem times. 
In such a case we should either have made the arches all equal — a mis- 
take, considering their different heights — or have built solidly over the 
smaller arches to bring up the level, which would have been a far 
greater error in construction than the other is in taste. The bridge 
consists of six arches, the whole length of the roadway being 650 ft ; Ihe 
two cential arches are about 100 ft. span ; the roadway is 140 ft. above 
the level of the stream which it crosses. The piers are well propor- 
tioned and graceful ; and altogether the work is as fine and as tasteful 
an example of bridge-building as can be found anywhere, even in these 
days of engineering activity. 

The bridge which the same Emperor erected over the Danube was 
a far more difficult work in an engineering point of view ; but the 
superstructure being of wood, resting only on stone piers, it woidd 
necessarily have possessed much less architectural beaut}' than this, or 
indeed than many others. 

These examples of this class of Roman works must suffice ; they are 
so typical of the style that it was impossible to omit them altogether, 
though the subject scarcely belongs in strictness to the objects of this 
work. The bridges and aqueducts of the Romans richly deserve the 
attention of the architect, not only because they are in fact the only 
works which the I Jomans, either from taste or from social position, were 
enabled to carry out without affectation, and with all their originality 
and power, but also because it was in building these works that the 
Romans acquired that constructive skill and largeness of proportion 
which enabled them to design and carry out works of such vast dimen- 
sions, to vault such spaces, and to give to their buildings generally that 
size and impress of power which form their chief if not their only 
merit. It was this too tliat enabled them to originate that new style 
of vaulted buildings which at one period of the middle ages promised 
to reach a degree of perfection which no architecture of the world had 
ever attained. The Gothic style, it is true, perished at a time when it 
was very far from completed ; but it is a point of no small interest to 
know where and under what circumstances it was invented. We shall 
subsequently have to trace how far it advanced towards that perfection 
at which it aimed, but to which it never reached. Strangely enough 
it failed solely because of the revival and the pernicious influence of 
that very parent style to which it owed its birth, and the growth and 
maturity of which we have described in the grandeur of the edifices 
reared at Rome in the first centuries of the Empire. 

yKf\* « Vm- Frwi ■ 










If a liuu wero drawn north and south from Meniel on the shorea oftlie 
13altic to Spalatro on the Adriatic, it would divide Europe into nearly 
equal halves. All that part lying to the west of the lino would be 
found to be inhabited by nations of Celtic or Indo- Germanic race, and 
all those to the eastward of it by nations of Sclavonic origin, if — as we 
must do — we exclude fiom present consideration those fragments of the 
effete Turanian races which still linger to the westward, as well as 
the intrusive hordes of the same family which temporarily occupy 
some fair portions to the eastward of the lino so drawn. 

This line is not of course quite straight, for it follows the boundary 
between Germany on the one hand, and Kussia and Poland on the 
other as far as Cracow, while it crosses Hungary by the line of the Kaab 
and separates Dalmatia from Turkey. Though Sclavonic influences may 
be detected to the westward of the boundary, they are faint and underlie 
the Teutonic element; but to the eastwaid, the little province of Sie- 
benburgen in the noilh-east corner of Hungary, forms the only little 
oasis of Gothic art in the desert of Pansluvic indifference to archi- 
tectural expression. Originally it was a Koman, afterwards a German 
colony, and maintained its Gothic style throughout the middle ages.' 

From SjKilatro the lino crosses the Adriatic to Ferrno, and then 

* In the Muacuui at PoUi are a num- 
ber f»l' objecits of Egyptian ait, aaid to 
have bei'ii found in tliia quiirter. Is it 

too much to a(!Siune the pre-fxiatenoe of u 
Phooiiicidu or Egyptian colony here before 
the Boman times ? 



following very closely the 43rd parallel of latitude, divides Italy into 
two nearly equal halves. The Gothic tribes settled to such an extent 
to the northward of this boundary as to influence Ihe style of archi- 
tecture in a very marked degree ; while to the southward of it their 
presence can with difficulty be detected, except in a few exceptional 
cases, and for a very limited time. 

Architecturally all the styles of art practised during the middle ages 
to the westward and northward of this boundary, may be correctly and 
graphicly described as the Gothic style. All those to the eastward 
may with equal propriety be designated as the Byzantine style of art. 

Anterior however to these, there existed a transitional style, pro- 
perly called the Romanesque, which may bo described as that modifica- 
tion of the classical Koman form, which was introduced between the 
reigns of Constantino and Justinian, and was avowedly an attempt to 
adapt classical forms to Christian purposes. To the eastward of the 
lino of demarcation the transition was perfected under the reign of Jus- 
tinian (a.d. 527 to 564), when it became properly entitled to the name 
of Byzantine. To the westward, in Italy and the south of France, the 
Romanesque continued to be practised till the 6th or 7th centuries ; but 
about that time occurs an hiiitus in the architectural history of Western 
Europe, owing to the troubles which arose on the dissolution of the 
Roman empire and the irruption of the Barbarian hordes. When the art 
again re-api)eartd, it was strongly tinctured by Barbarian influences, and 
may with propriety be designated the Gothic style, the essential cha- 
racteristic being that it is the architecture of a people differing from 
the Romans or Italians in blood, and, it need hardly be added, differing 
from them in a like ratio in their architectural conceptions. 

This nomenclature differs slightly from that usually employed in 
modern architectural works. This arises from the fact that the present 
names were introduced by persons wi*iting monographs of the styles of 
their native countnes, and not by any one who, taking a larger view of the 
subject, was attempting to clashify all styles. It is of little consequence, 
for instance, that the Germans should call the architecture of such cathe- 
drals as those of Spires, Worms, &e., by the absuid name of Byzantine, 
or to ask them what feature had been bonowed from the £astem 
capital, or in what one particular they resembled the buildings of that 
division of Europe. They adopted a name, and so long as they did not 
extend their purview beyond the Rheinland, no harm was done. But 
with a general historian it is different, he has a definite use for the 
term, and he cannot admit within its limits any style or details which 
cannot establish their affinity to it. 

The same is equally true of the Romanesque. There is in Italy 
and in the south of Franco a style which is only modified Roman, 
without any exti'anoous influence — and to which the term more pro- 
perly applies, and to use it to designate the early attempts of the anta- 


gonistic nations is to mistake, not only the meaning of the term, but the 
whole meaning of the ethnography of art. ITiere is, for instanoe, less 
classical feeling in the naves of Peterborough or Ely Cathedrals, than 
in those of Canterbury or York ; and our Norman buildings, in all 
essential respects, are far less like those of Rome than the Decorated 
Pointed buildings which superseded them. If the change of a simple 
detail or the substitution of a pointed for a round arch is sufficient to 
necessitate a change of name, the new style should have been called 
Saracenesque,* or have had some such name conferred upon it. 

The term Gothic, as applied to all the styles invented and used by 
the Western Barbarians who overthrew the Roman empire and settled 
within its limits, is a true and expressive term both ethnographically 
and architecturally; and, unless the several styles be grasj^ed as a 
whole, and comprehended under one denomination — whatever that may 
be — they can never be classified or be properly understood. 

The first great subdivision of this that occurs, is between the early 
and later Gothic styles — which may generally be characterised as the 
Round and Pointed Arched Gothic styles. In France, however, a 
pointed style pi-eceded the round-arched, so that this characteristic must 
not be too rigidly insisted upon. Ifeyond this general classification, the 
use of local names when available, will always be foimd most conve- 
nient. First, the country, or architectural province, in which an 
example is found should l)e ascertained, so that its locality may be 
marked, and if possible with the addition of a dynastic or regal name 
to point out its epoch. When the outline is sufficiently marked, it may 
be convenient, as the French do, to speak of the style of the l.'Uh cen- 
tnry as applied to their own country. The terms they use always seem 
to be better than Ist, or 2nd, middle, pointed, or even "Geometnc," 
" Decorated " or " Perpendicular," or such general names as neither tell 
the country nor the age, nor even accurately describe the style, though 
when they have lxx?oine g(;neral it may seem pedantic to refuse to use 
them. The syKteni of using local, combined, and dyniistic names, has 
been followed in describing all the styles hitlierto enumerated in this 
volume, and will be followed in speaking of those which remain to be 
descrilx^d, and as it is generally found to be so convenient, whenever it 
is ix>ssible it will l)e adliered to. 

In order to carrj' out these principles, the division proposed for 
this part of the subject is — 

1st. To treat of the Western Romanesque as it prevailed in Italy 
between the ages of Constantine and Justinian down to the age of 
Gregory the CJreat, say about the year 600. So long in fact as it 
remained an original independent style, unmixed with foreign or 
extraneous influences. 

^ If Rr>nuincsquc is to be applied to our Normaa architecture, the Parthenon ought 
to be called Egyptianesque, and the Temple at Ephesus A8syrianc:jciue. 

VOL. I. 2 A 


2nd. To take up the Gothic style in France, and follow it fitmi the 
time it emancipated iteelf from the Bomaneeqne till it perished under 
Francis I. If this arrangement is not quite logical, it is certainly con- 
venient, as it enables us to grasp the complete history of the style in 
the country where most of the more important features were invented 
and ixirfected. Having once mastered this, the history of Gothic art in 
the country of its birth, the sequence in which the other branches of the 
style are followed becomes comparatively unimportant. The difficulty 
of urmnging them does not lie so much in the sequence as in the deter- 
mination of what di^'ision8 shall be considered as separate architectural 
provinces. In a Handbook subdivision could hardly be carried too fiw, 
in a history a -wnder view ought to be taken. On the whole, perhaps, 
the following will best meet the true exigencies of the case. 

3rd. Belgium and Holland should be taken up after France as a 
separate province during the middle ages, while at the same time form- 
ing an intermediate link between that country and Germany. 

4 til. Though not without important ethnographical distinctions, it 
will be convenient to treat all the German-speaking countries from the 
Alps to the Bj\ltic as one province. If they were taken up before 
France, such a mode of treatment would be inadmissible ; but following 
the history of the art in that country, it may be done without either 
confusion or needless repetition. 

oth. Scandinavia follows naturally as a subordinate and unfor- 
tunately not very imjx)rtant architectural subdivision. 

Cth, From this we pass by an easy gradation to the British Islands, 
which in themselves contain three tolerably well-defined varieties of 

7th. Spain might have been made to follow France, as most of its 
architectural peculiarities were borrowed from that country ; but some 
too own a German origin, while on the whole the new lessons to be 
learned from a study of her art are so few, that it is comparatively un- 
important in what sequence the country is taken. 

8th. There then only remains Italy, from which our history sprang, 
and to which it rctunis. After treating of the imperfect Go^c of 
the north, we pass easily to the imperfect Byzantine of the southern 
division of the peninsula. Thence by an easy gradation wo cross the 
Adriatic, and begin again the history of Christian art by tracing up 
the successive developments of the 1 Byzantine style of architecture in 
the countries lying to the eastward of the boundary line, with the 
description of which this chapter eonimenccd. Owing to the greater 
uniformity of race, the thretid of the nan*ative is far more easily fol- 
lowed to the eastward than to tlio westward of the line. The B^^^santine 
empire remained one and undivided during the middle ages ; and from 
ihat we pass by an easy gradation to Russia, where the style oontinQed 
to be practised till Peter the Great superseded it by introducing those 
of Western Europe. 

Bk. I. Ch. II. 





Basilicas at Rome — Basilica of St Peter — St Paul's— Basilicas at Ravenna — ^Toioello. 



Iloiiorius A.D. 395 

Valentinian 425-^35 

Tbeodoric, King of the Ostrogoths . . . 493-525 
Justinian 527 


Alboin Longimanus, King of Lombardy . a.d. 508 

Gregory 1. 690 

Charlemagne 768 


Like the study of all modern history, that of Christian architecture 
commences with Rome, and not, as is sometimes supposed, where the 
history of Rome leaves off, but far back in the Empire, if not, indeed, 
almost in the Republic. 

As has already been pointed out, the whole history of the art in 
Imperial Rome is that of a style in course of transition, beginning with 
a purely Pagan or Grecian style in the age of Augustus, and passing 
into one almost wholly Christian in the age of Constantine. 

At the first epoch of the Empire the temple architecture of Eomo 
consisted in an external arrangement of columns, without arches or 
vaults, and wholly unsuited to the purposes of Christian worship. 
Towards the end of the period it had become an internal architecture, 
making use of arches and vaults almost entirely to the exclusion of the 
columnar orders, except as ornaments, and was so perfectly adapted to 
Christian requirements, that little or no essential change has taken 
place from that time to the present day. A basilica of the form 
adopted in the first century after Constantine is as suited now as it 
was then to the forms and ceremonies of the Christian ritual. 

The fiict seems to be, that during the first three centuries after the 
Christian era an immense change was silently but certainly working 
its way in men's minds. The old religion was effete : the best men, 
the mo«t intellectual spirits of the age had no faith in it ; and the new 
religion with all its important consequences was gradually supplying 
its place in the minds of men long before it was generally accepted. 

There is thus no real distinction between the Emilian or Ulpian 

2 A 2 

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a ii V n 1 i -.•>• r . . 'r • ■ • ■ r — r v. 1 1 i tl t : . r .:- ■ v- rr. zi-.- r- r -ft h v nv wl v r-sr-i ^Ilsh- ^1 
i.-hup-h. I'l.i- T r:i.->*- •.■ir-.rir..*'.*r.->s it w..ts Ivf: :;lln;^■^^t wholly t»v tli''**.- 
ti^ wh"^- t'lT" ri-- i:.tiKt •"li.rr'-.rtti' n w;i> ►jnrrTL'-toL !•• rmruv >nvh 
ri-^rnLiti'-n." t-r i^- L'^ii-lin:-!- ;is t:i" ►.•xii^'-n-.i*.-^ i-f thr •>.\?;isi"n mi^ht 
•lir-tiir»-. Jtii'l L:r.i«l:i;illv r. .q;-.Liit >U'.h r'TTiL'^ "f w.'r^hii- Jis cii^ht ^^'t-m 
ni'>*t .-Tiir.vl-l.- t" »;xj»r»-?". th-- {•Tiriry ...f thv nvw tUith. V.ut At the &knie 
rim»; wirli ,% 'li^iity 1- ti-riirj its hiirh nii»i"ii. 

In .Jii'l».-:t th^.-*-- or-rt-.-iu* iiiv-s. .^> iiii::ht iiiV!r.illy W t-rp^nol. wei>* 
stp'ii;:ly riii'tTir»-»l wi::i tit'- t«ntis -f th" M"s;iio •.li>p»iLS4tioii ; but it 
ajii^-sir- t».» i:.iVf U . i-, iii AtVi'-i. ;iriil ni-'n.- vr»j-vii»lly in thr j^'^mp-loviug 
ainl !•♦ n :!i •iii'-U'i Kj-.-i*. ^i.i'' tix-^rl litur;^i«s an-l rito* first Ix-cunie uii 
inti-'Tnil {sirt ••:' th-. ' hri-ti-tii r'liiri««n. Iii tbys*? ountru^s £ir frv^ni 
the e^-utnl <»:it •t* ;i-'V' riiiu-ur. mt-n? lil»>rtv i-f o^n.-H-itnco s«?oin>i to 
hiivt Vitvu att-iiu^-il .ir :iii '-.irly [■ ri'-l than wtiTiM havo Kvn t«»li.*n4tM 
in ih».- c-aiiital. Inf-ir*- th* tiTu" "f ^V■n-^tr.:iu•• th«-y {^ >6Si's^it^l not only 
chun-hi-s, hill a rt.-jnilivlv •>t.iiliHhril hi-.ntri liv. ainl a f'^mi »M' w»>i>ihip 
simihir ti» wluit •'(•t.iiKvil t'lr-^ii^h'-ut tin: whoK^ i/hristian 
"worlil. Tht" t'orni ••!' rh-- ^- vvnni:. tit •■f thv church, howt-vor, was 
long uiL«^'ttKtl. At lir^r it >-viii^ lu' rrly ti« have Ixvu. tliai tho nu»st 
reisjKvictl iniliviiliLiN • t' ^-.vAi i-i-'lat'.il C"n;j:ri-iPiti"n were ^j^-lccttnl to 
form u ivuucil t»»adviM- .ml dir».vt tiicir tVilnwM'hristian*, to n?coive 
aud ilisiK-us*.* tiu-ir ahu>. aiul uu«Ut thv sim]ilo hut rovt'red title of 
rreshvten*, t«» act a> fithi-rs rather tlnu as irMVi-mors to the seattertil 
communitii's hv which thov w»rc vKvttil. Th»- idwi. however, of such 
a council naturally iuchuU-s tluit of a pn>iil».ut to guide their delibera- 
tions, and give unity and for\v t«^ thoir d«.visii»ns; and such we soon 
find 8pring:ing up umler the title <»f l>ishi>i^ or Presbyter Bishops^ as 
were first callinL During the ».\»urse of the s^wmd ceiituiy the 

Bk. I. Ch. IL basilicas. 357 

latter institution seems gradually to have gained strength at the ex- 
pense of the power of the presbyters, whose delegate the bishop was 
assumed to be. In that capacity the Bishops not only took upon them- 
selves the general direction of the affairs of the church, but formed 
themselves into separate councils and synods, meeting in the provincial 
capitals of the provinces where they were located. These meetings 
took place under the presidency of the bishop of the city in which 
they met, who thus assumed to be the chief or metropolitan. These 
formed a new presbytery above the older institution, which was thus 
gradually superseded — to be again surpassed by the great Councils, 
which after the age of Constantino formed the supreme governing body 
of the church; performing the functions of the earlier provincial 
synods with more extended authority, though with less unanimity and 
regularity, than had characterised the earlier institution. 

It was thus that during the first three centuries of its existence the 
Christian community was formed into a vast Federal republic, governed 
by its own laws, administered by its own officers, acknowledging no 
community with the heathen, and no authority in the constituted 
secular powers of the state. But at the same time the hierarchy 
admitted a participation of rights to the general body of the faithful, 
from whom they were chosen, and whose delegation was still admitted 
to be their title to office. 

When in the time of Constantino this persecuted and scattered 
church emerged from the catacombs to bask in the sunshine of im- 
perial favour, there were no buildings in Rome which could bo found 
more suited for their purposes than the basilicas of the ancient city. 
They were designed and erected for the transaction of the affairs 
of the heathen Empire, and were in consequence eminently suited 
for the convenience of the Christian republic, which then aspired to 
supersede its fallen rival, and replace it by a younger and better in- 

In the basilicas the whole congregation of the fixitliful could meet 
and take part in the transaction of the business going on. The bishop 
naturally took the place previously occupied by the pnetor or quaestor, 
the presbyters those of the assessors. The altar in front of the apse, 
where the pious heathen i)oured out libations at the commencement 
and conclusion, of all important business, served equally for the cele- 
bration of Christian rites, and with the fewest possible clianges either 
in the form of the ceremonies, or in the nature of the business trans- 
acted tliercin, the basilica of the heathen became the ecclesia or place 
of assembly of the early Christian community. 

Though this was the case in the capital, it was otherwise in the 
provinces. There the Christian communities existed as meml)ers of a 
religious sect long before they aspired to political power or dreamt of 
superseding the secular form of government by combination among 



tlu-nwciviw. In the remote parts of the Empire they oonaeqnently 
IniiU {\<T th(in«'lvi>8 clmrL'hcs which were temples, or in other vorda 
hiMin.*! of jiraviT. (lexifnied for and devoted wholly to ti>e celebration 
t'f txlijiums ritw, ii« in the Pagan templee, and without any refer- 
OHiv to the pn-onimont iif the community or the tranaaction of the 
l«tisiiu*s of tho «sst>ml>I_v. If any Biich exiiited in Italy or any other 
|i»Tt <f Kim'ix'. they either periwheil in tho variona persecntionB to 
whi.-h iho Ohristinns were esposeil when located near the seat of 
S>'> vTununt. or they Uxitine IwUowcd by tho memories of the times 
of\)oni. .intl wor>- reluiitt in happier days with greater magni- 
fi.v».\-. ».> little or no trace of the original buildings now remains, 
j^i l.^i-.j;,\f.>n'. as our T^intarchcs were confined to Earc^Knn ex- 
AtHi^'ii^ tV.o V.i^to^v of I'hristinn archifecturo Ix^n with Constant ine ; 
l»-.;: !^\^■,■,: nwinrvhns in Afrim lutve ehown that, when properly ex- 
(»1.",\\1, \» .- )Jv»',l ii rtjiinly Iv able to earn' the history of tho Rumanceqtie 
fc^x I.' iv. •.':■.;•. iV.iniry Utik to a dtite at least ft centtiry before his time. 
Ir, S»;-..i s".'..l Asis Minor a^ uwny mrly cxiimplc« have come to light 
i!m) ;: »,s v.-.* -,■:> IwWi- tluit wo nwy, Kfore long, carry the hiHtor>' of 
|l\',*v.v.v.,- *r: Ki.V t.^a Aile nearly a}>pn«ehing fhjit of thcdcetruetion 
»if ,*■■•. ■.■.v->". •,-,■. V> l':;;ss, li is, however, only so recently that the atten- 
I:.".: ,■;■ .w',.-,;, 'i.^;>TsV«»s Kvn diiwtiil to the early examples of Christiaa 
*;v'.-.:.v;-,:;v, !';■,.*: i; is not vc> i»>wiblo to grasp completely tho whole 
K>f.;',-.^ .;t'-.,- >v.V\\-:, l-^'.t moiigh is known to show how much the 
p»\yn'«« .;" 5\'^\iTih i-.:.iy m.^lify the views hitherto entertained on 
ill,- M!V_>v;. Mi\iv,»h •:'.,• t.o niiioh attention can hardly bo bcBtowed 
»H\M> ■.!, a* ■.; ;» V> ■.■.■.;\i:-.s of thi».» .-arly specimens of architectural art 

V'» iv Wtit ahlo to nwiver tho primitive forms 

>:■;.«> .>l**rx-an.v. 

:i:).:.-.-.: A.* well ds interesting of the African 
.V.'.'.riV.;* i»h:.!i has yet l>een bmnght to light is 
t'.vt; a: V^.v-xix. It is a simple iwtangle, iuter- 
i-,.-i".y ; J j1, by :>'J, dix-ided longitudinally with 
t:-.:*v sU",>i, ;hi- ivnire one of which terminate* in 
.* wjM.itY ,x';"„* ,T ihoir. which seems to have been 
^•n.■l.■«^'. v.;> !o ;ho n.>if: but the building is so 
t; tkit this x'unnot K> known for a certainty'. 
I'h.-.sjih !*» i\,vi'tionaI, it is not difSenlt to see 
\^h^■n^v t;;i- f.^mi Was derived. If we take such a 
pliiti. iVr iusMUiv. as tlwi of the Maison Carrfe at 
Niuuv v«<»vKui Niv ITvV ami build a wall round 
i«ii>t )<nt II u>>f ov^ T ii. Ai .-is to make a buililing 
:» \\hi.-h was orij;ini(lly .tppropriatcd to external 

^Tsliip fuitaHe for internal Tvligiooa pnrpowK. 

in» ahttwltl Invc exM'tly 

I ix>nli ,-)& thi& The cella i 

Bk. L Ch. II. 





Plan of Church at Annonna. 
Scale 50 ft to 1 in. 

diminklied in extent, the pillars more widely spaced, and the front 
row converted into a wall in which the entrances would be nsuallj 
placed. In this instance the one entrance, for some local reason, is 
lateral. The whole floor of the church is covered with a mosaic so 
purely classical in style of execution as to leave no doubt as to its 
early date. 

A more common form is shown in the annexed woodcut, repre- 
senting a small church at Announa, like- 
wise in Algeria, about 45 ft. square, di- 
vided into three aisles and with a pro- 
jecting apse. If we turn to the plan of 
the Temple of Mars Ultor (woodcut No. 
1 78), wo see at once whence this form was 
derived. It only requires the lateral 
columns to be brought slightly forward 
to effect the requisite change. AVhen the 
building was to be used by a congregation, 
and not merely for display, the pillars 
would require to be more widely spaced. 
A third form, from I brim in Nubia, 
shows the peculiarity of the apse being in- 243. 
temal, which became very fashionable in 
the Eastern, though not so much so in the Western churches, but still 
sufficiently so to make its introduction at this early age worthy of notice. 
The building is small, being only 57 ft. in length 

externally, but is remark- 
able for being built with 

something of the solidity 

of the Egyptian edifices 

among which it stands. 
The last example which 

it will be necessary to 

quote to make this early 

form intelligible, is that 

of the church of St. Ee- 

paratus, near Orleansville 

— the ancient Castellum 

Tingitanum. According 

to an inscription still ex- 
isting, it was erected a.d. 252, but the second apse seems to have been 
added afterwards, about the year 403, to contain the grave of the saint. 
As it now stands, it is a double-apsed basilica 80 ft long by 52 broad, 
divided into five aisles, and exhibiting on a miniature scale all the 
peculiarities of plan which wo have hitherto fencied were not adopted 
until some centuries later. In this instance both the apses are internal. 


244. Plan of Church at Ibrim 
in Nubia. Mo scale. 


Plan of Basilica at 

Scale SU ft to 1 in. 


M» ili;tt tlu' siilt^ ai^Us are longer tLan tLe centre one, no portion of 
ilicm :)p|H\n-in:r to h:ivo Ikh'U cut ofi' for calcidica or veBtries, as was 
vorv o tM"5>nv tlio iMst* at this ace. 

\\ \\,\^ YvAwhXy in a pc^^^at nK«Biirc owing to the influence of these 
|>T\^\iiui,4l o\;uui»h's that the arrangements of the metropolitan basilicas 
xxou^ 1.^: I r.iT allowol to retain the form above described, though 
r.;*^;v pvoK»My duo to the change which was gradually taking 
^ *' ;» .\' v.; : : '. o ^ x v. ^ t i t u t i « »n i • f the g( > veming body of the church- The 
^%%**;x .r. v.iv^- v.v v.:> of tho I'liristian basilica, as copied from the secular 
t'.*:v.;N ,t" :' . i^CiVi I'luvs of assi'mbly, tMX)n became unsuited to the 
v.vv ^\. *>\/.\ vil-.gious purixwos to which they were to be appro- 
^". '.iT.A: I" , V. -^^ il* :uin.iut hivnirohy of Rome soon began to repudiate 
*,\w :\ I •■/ ...;.iNV.; ^ :* :h; oarly tLivs of tho church, and to adopt from 
?/..- >*.;v: ■.' .'V.xt :.:.'.;: diviriuoof tho al>soluto se^taration of the c<m- 
4;.•.\c•'■' *"■ • • ■ - . '^^ «^' d laitv. To accommotlate the basilica to this 
v.;n v:. : . t :* • -j^v^ !;:>: tho a[»so was railed ofif and appropriiiteil 
xx>., Vx ■..'•*., :>. :" :\.( %\rcy ; thou the whole of the dais, or raitHrd 
•.\i'? v. '.•-',: :":'.; .i'.VA^ ^ ii whivh tho altar stood, was separated by 
I' * * i • X » ; . * " \' , ■ . V " ' -. . ;i v. .1 in 1 i ko ma unor given up wholly to the 
» t, •v^'* • *, XX N • ,■* w .vi :.• Iv piot'imxl by the presence of the unor- 

»i ^ 

■ V .; • ',*;',:. x\.;s thi' iutnvluotiou of a cliwr, or enclo»ie<l 
x'.\;,^ * \ . '. : \; Viix-.. ;i:t»Kluil to tlio iH'Uia or presbytery^ as 

>*'.. ' *■■ ^ . ' . -. :.'.«. »\/.*..\l. Hound ihn.v sides of this choir the 
U". ' . * X*, •. ^. .". • .^ v^Ttcitc to lK>;ir tho (iotqx'ls or Epistles 

x\\*.'. '. '. XV / rx . V .-. '■^'■.^<x xvhioh Wfn» built into its eiichv 

Nii'.v . • . . , ■ V ; ,- : V.^ir :ho sorvi^.vs which were read or 

NUV.A -^ •.' ..*/.. :^^ w:-.,MWupit\l its prooiucts. 

r\. . ■ / .X .-•. . .*.. • \x-;> K, :>: :,.\v. m^ as not to hide the view 

s'l tV,' •. . V v- '. '. n' '. \ . — : - -\\ . v.: ::-.r v\r.i:n-;rition from wit nessiii«x 
1 5; s* IV. , ♦ • •. V i , ■ V ^ I ' X X . • . > : : V. , : , -. : V. \\ :; :«. h won^ t hore i»erfonued by 
■w.k '»■..•» • • ■ • • ■ •■' \ 

A » \, • . V. , •. V t\ ■ , • . '. • .^ ■. . . : :, . : V. * :;::; i t t n ta ih\l no a rchi ti»c ■ 
%\\\^\ *V.»»,;»;v. \x <,x •.'., .v. •*.*.,.. •' :'. *:>.;u^ of tlu* saints in whos<.» 
h\x*^* »u \ ■, v., V i: '. . V '. V. XX i X . •. V . y ; ■ : ' • Vm V-; *. : ,>» i i jH.-lf. and de}K)si t iiig 
lUx'»»i '.u .» x\"..i.w, V /. .' » ■ ^ ■ .X ' x^ : .. :.-,:.!• A;:ar. 

rh. '.V >x ,\x'. \ :\.ix.- . ■..• \ ! x . :..,: .^ s^iUirAto oirouLir buildinvc, 
\xi ^^\\'^v^ U'w.V \x.»x . '^.v.i "x . \v :..'. \ . : :".... jirr.ivo or pLioe of mar- 

l.xtxUxm. .^u,l \^. ix*N/...,fc XX -v s.,*... ::-... *, •... :- ly Vy ::> pn»pini]uity to 
\\w ^%s \^« ^»v**. V;\, -.xx.i'.-x '.V. •.••,.: V . • .■ V. c^::::u tho r^lio5> of tlu- 
M^^«( Ku**u5\ '/;x il.x". \\ ;■ •,. •'/.. x , v/.^ :";.. ••■.*.•., A: :»K«ut the siime 
hm\^ <iw Uki'--'''^*^ xx.ix.;'.>v .i\.v. \..; .:.: -• *:vv>lMv^4 : and iiistwul 
x\|' »M«\xli«Vi; x'j'^sxv/..- th.' xxvN...... .'..::..•...>. .. : :.: ;.;.,v\\l xvitliiu the 

>^ \^lx^v 1^ d^sxf!* M-, 5 ' J-' u vl V. > ';•'.. V . i .■ • X *. . , X : . . . . ■ .^\ xx-.u< mado wirlier 

Ml ^^^^Wx* liwU *UxX;;.iv. I. x i,. •. x!..\x:. ... w .„,-. ^ x;,^ { [^.TIihI tW 

Bk. I. Ch. II. 



alteration was introduced, but it is probable that the whole was com- 
pleted before the age of Gregory the Great. 

It was thus that in the course of a few centuries the basilicas 
aggregated within themselves all the offices of the Eoman church, and 
became the only acknowledged ecclesiastical buildings — either as places 
for the assembly of the clergy for the administration of the Sacraments 
and the p<^ormance of divine worship, or for the congregation of the 

None of the Basilican churches either of Eome or the provinces 
possess these arrangements exactly as they were originally established 
in the fourth or fifth century. The church of San 
Clemen te, however, retains them so nearly in their 
primitive form that a short description of it may tend 
to make what follows more easily intelligible. This 
basilica seems to have l)een erected in the fourth or 
fifth century over what was supposed to bo the house 
in which the saint of that name resided. Kecently 
a subterranean church or crypt has been discovered 
which must of course be more ancient than the present 
remains; but nothing has yet been made public to 
enable us to fix its date with any certainty, or even 
to ascei-tain it« precise j)lan. Above this crypt stands 
the edifice shown in the accompanying plan (woodcut 
No. 24(J). 

It is one of the few that still possesses an Atrium or 
court-yard in front of the principal entrance, though 
there can be but little doubt but this was con- 246. pian of the church 
sidercd at that etirly ago a most important, if not Rome" FixSn Outcn- 
indeed an indispensable, attribute to the church itself. '^^•" ^^"^ Knapp.» 

^ ^ ' ^ Seal© 100 ft. to 1 In. 

As a feature it may have been derived from the East, 
where we know it was most common, and where it afterwards became, 
with only the slightest possible modifications, the mosque of the Mos- 
lems. It would seem even more probable, however, that it is only a 
repetition of tho forum, which was always attached to the Pagan basilica, 
and through which it was always entered ; and for a sepulchral church 
at least nothing could be more appropriate, as the original application 
of the word forum seems to have been to the open area that existed in 
front of tt)mb8 as well as of other important buildings.* 

In the centre of this atrium there generally stood a fountain or 
tank of water, not only as an emblem of purity, but that those who 
came to the church might wash their hands before entering the holy 
place — a custom which seems to have given rise to the practice of 

' Gut^iiKoliii ami Knapp, * Die Bodilikcii des Cliristlichon Roms.' 

* Cicero do Legg., ii. 24 ; Fe»tiu, u. v. ; Smitli'd ' Dictiomu-y of Clu^bical Autiquitios.' 


dipping the fingers in the holy water of the piscina, now nniYersal in 
all Catholic countries. 

The colonnade next the church was firequently the only represent- 
ative of the atrium, and then — perhaps indeed always — ^was called the 
narthex, or place for penitents or persons who had not yet acquired the 
right of entering the church itself. 

From this narthex three doorways generally opened into the church, 
corresponding with the three aisles ; and if the building possessed a 
font, it ought to have been placed in one of the chapels on either the 
right or left hand of the principal entrance. 

The choir with its two pulpits is shown in the plan — that on the 
leffc-hand side being the pulpit of the epistle, that on the right of the 
gospel. The railing of the hema or presbytery is also marked, so is 
the position of the altar with its canopy supported on four pillars, and 
behind that the throne of the bishop, with the seats of the inferior 
dergy surrounding the apse on either side. 

Besides the church of San Clemente there are at least thirty other 
basilican churches in Rome, extending in date from the 4th to the 14th 
century. Their names and dates, as far as they have been ascertained, are 
set forth in the accompanying list, which, though not altogether com- 
plete, is still the best we possess, and is sufficient for our present pur- 



St. Peteb's Constantine (5 aisled) about 330 

San Giovanni Latekano Ditto founded 333? 

St. Paul's Thcodoeius and Honorios (5 aisled) 386 



Sta. Sabina Pope Cdestine aboat 425 

Sta. Maria Magoiore Pope Sixtus IIL 432 

St. Pietro ad Vincula Fudoxia (Greek Doric pillars) ... 442 


San Lorenzo (old part) Pope Pelagins (galleries) 580 

Sta. Balbina Gregory the Great (no side-aisles) 600 


Sta. Agnese Honorius L (galleries) 625 

QcATTRO CoRONATi Honoriiis L 625 

St. Giorgio IN Velabro I/x) II 682 

San Chrisogono Gregory III 730 

* It is copied, with slight alterations, ' thongh some of the dates assigned to 
finom the work of the Chevalier Bunsen i Uie buildings are still matters of dispate, 
on the Roman Basilicas, which, with the but not to any material extent. Thoee 
illustrations of Gutensohn and Knapp, ' here given generally refer to tlie building 
forms by far the best work on the subject i now existing or known, and not always to 
that has yet been given to the world ; | the original foundation. 

Bk. L Ch. II. BASILICAS. 363 


S. GiovANNA A PORTA Latixa Hadrian I. 790? 

8. Maria IN CofiMEDiN 790 


8. Lorenzo (nave) about 790? 


88. Nereo ED AcHiLLEO Leo III about 800 

8. Praxede Paschal 1 820 

8. Maria IN Dominica 820 

8. Martino Ai Monti Sergius and Leo 844,855 

8. Clemente John VIII 872 

8. NiooLO in Carcere about 900 

8. Bartolomeo in IsoLA 900 

S. Giovanni in Lateuano Rebuilt by Sergius III 910 




8. Maria in TKASTEVi-niE Innocent II 1135 

8. Croce Liicius 1144 

8. Maria in Ara Celt uncertain 



8. Maria sorRA Minerva Gothic about 1370 

8. Agostino Renaissance? about 1480 

Three of these, St. Peter's, St. Paurs, and the Lateran church, have 
five aisles, all the rest three, with only one insignificant exception, Sta. 
Balbina, which has no side-aisles. Two, Sta. Agneso and the old part 
of St. Lorenzo, have their side-aisles in two storeys, all the rest are 
only one storey in height, and the side-aisles generally are half the 
width of the central aisle or nave. Some of the more modem churches 
have the side-aisles vaulted, but of those in the list all except the two 
last have flat wooden ceilings over the central compartment, and 
generally speaking the plain unornamental construction of the roof is 
exposed. It can scarcely be doubted that originally they were ceiled 
in some more ornamental manner, as the art of ornamenting this new 
style of open construction seems to have been introduced at a later date. 

Of the two last-named, the Sta. Maria sopra Minerva might perhaps 
be more properly classed among the buildings belonging to the Italian 
Gothic stylo ; but as it is the only one in Home that has any claim to 
such a distinction, it is liardly worth while making it an exception 



Part II. 

Mf . Plan of tbe original BasUica of St Peter at Itonie. From Gutcnsohn and Knaitp. 

Scale 100 ft. to 1 ill. 

Bk. I. Ch. IL basilicas. 305 

to the rest. The San Agostino might also be called a Kenaissance spe- 
cimen. It certainly is a transitional specimen between the pillared and 
pilastered styles, which were then struggling for mastery. It may either 
be regarded as the last of the old race or the first of the new style, 
which was so soon destined to revolutionise the architectural world. 

St. Peter's. 

Of the remaining examples the oldest was the finest. This great 
basilica was erected in the reign of Constantine, close to the circus 
of Nero, where tradition affirmeil that St. Peter had suffered martyr- 
dom. It unfortunately was entirely swept away to make room for the 
greatest of Christian temples, which now occupies its site ; but 
previous to its destruction careful measurements and drawings were 
made of every part, from which it is easy to understand all its arrange- 
ments — easier perhaps than if it had remained to the present day, and 
four centuries more of reform and improvements had assisted in alter- 
ing and disfiguring its venerable frame. 

As will be seen from the plan (woodcut Xo. 247), drawn to the 
usual scale, it possessed a noble atrium or forecourt, 212 ft. by 235, in 
front of which were some bold masses of building, which during the 
middle ages were surmounted by two belfry-towers. The church itself 
was 212 ft. in width by 880 in length, covering, without its adjuncts, 
an area of above 80,000 English feet, which, though less than half 
the size of the present cathedral, is as large as that covered by any 
mediaeval cathedral except those of Milan and Seville. The cen- 
tral aisle was about 80 ft. across (about twice the average width of 
a Gothic nave), and nearly the same as that of the basilica of Maxentius 
and the principal halls of the greater Thermaj. For some reason or 
other this dimension seems to have been a modulus very generally 
adopted. The bema or sanctuary, answering to the Gothic transept, 
extended Ix'ycmd the walls of the church either way, which was un- 
usual in Romanesque buildings. The object here seems to have been 
to connect it with the tombs on its north side. The arrangement of 
the sanctuary was also peculiar, having been adorned with twelve 
pillars supporting a gallery. These, when symbolism became the 
fashion, were said to represent the twelve apostles. This certainly 
was not their original intent, as at first only six were put up — the 
others added afterwards. The sanctuar}' and choir were here singu- 
larly small and contracted, as if arranged before the clergy became so 
numerous as they afterwards were, and before the laity were excluded 
from this part of the church. 

The general internal appearance of the building will be understood 
from the following woodcut (No. 248), which presents at one view all 
the peculiarities of the basilican buildings. The pillars separating the 



ccaLtral from the Bide aislee appear to bare bccD of unifonn dimenHionA, 
and to have supported a horizontal entablature, almve which rose a 
double range of panels, each containing a picture— these panels thiw 
taking the place of what wag the triforium in Gothic churches. Over 
these was the clerc«tor)', and again an ornamental belt gave sufficient 
elevation for the roof, which iu this instance (showed the naked 

construction. On the whole perhaps the ratio of height to width is 
unosccptionable, but tlio height over the pillars is so great that they 
are made to look utterly iusignificaut, which indeed is the great defect 
in the architectural design of these buildings, and, though seldom bo 
ofiensive as hero, is apparent in all. Tho ranges of columns dividing 
the side-aiales were joined by arches, which is a more common as well 

Bk. L Ch. II. BASILICAS. 367 

as a better arrangement, as it not only adds to the height of the pillars, 
but gives them an apparent power of bearing the superstructure. At 
some period during the middle ages the outer aisles were vaulted, and 
Gothic windows introduced into them. This change seems to have 
necessitated the closing of the intermediate range of clerestory win- 
dows, which probably was by no means conducive to the general archi- 
tectural effect of the building. 

Externally this basilica, like all those of its age, must have been 
singularly deficient in beauty or in architectural design. The sides 
were of plain unplastered brick, the windows were plain arch-headed 
openings. The front alone was ornamented, and this only with two 
ranges of windows somewhat larger than those at the sides, three in 
each tier, into which tracery was inserted at some later period, and 
between and above these, various figures and emblems were painted in 
fresco on stucco laid on the brickwork. The whole was surmounted 
by that singular coved cornice which seems to have been universal in 
Eoman basilicas, though not found anywhere else that I am aware of. 

The two most interesting adjuncts to this cathedral are the two 
tombs standing to the northward. According to the mediaeval tra- 
dition the one was the tomb of Honorius and his wives, the other the 
church of St. Andrew. Their position, however, carefully centred on 
the spina of the circus of Nero, where the great apostle suffered mar- 
tyrdom, seems to point to a holier and more important origin. My 
own conviction is that they were erected to mark the places where the 
apostle and his companions suffered. It is besides extremely impro- 
bable that after the erection of the basilica an emperor should choose 
the centre of a circus for the burying-place of himself and his family, 
or that he should be permitted to choose so hallowed a spot. They are 
of exactly the usual tomb-form of the age of Constantine, and of the 
largest size, being each 100 ft. in diameter. 

St. Paul's. 

The church of San Paolo fuori delle Mura was almost an exact 
counterpart of St. Peter's both in design and dimensions. The only 
important variations were that the transept was made of the same 
width as the central nave, or about 80 ft., and that the pillars sepa- 
rating the nave from the side-aisles were joined by arches instead of by 
a horizontal architrave. Both these wore undoubted improvements, 
the first giving space and dignity to the bema, the latter not only 
adding height to the order, but giving it, together with lightness, 
that apparent strength requisite to support the high wall placed over 
tlie pillars. 

The order too was finer and more important than at St. Peter's, 
twenty-four of the pillars being taken from some temple or building 
(it is generally said the mausoleum of Hadrian) of the best age of 



IVU-hiit llMKlwIun Uw On. 

Rome, though the roiuiiiiiiiig tdxtt-i'n arc unfortunately only tctj 
bod copies i>{ Hum. Tlicwj pillan* arc 33 ft in height, or ono- 
thinl of the wlioli' height of the building to the 
nK'f. Ill St. Peter's they were only a fourth, and 
if they lukd liecn tijucul a little farther apart, and 
tlie an'h nuide more important, the moet glaring 
(li'ftt-t of tltoNc huildingN would in a great measure 
ive iHin avoideil. 

1.1'iig Ix-fure itH duHtniction by firo in 1822 

lip" elnnvli \\!u\ K-en no altered as to low many 

■ its moftt strikinj; iMvuliarities. The bema or 

iihliyliry wun dividnl into two by a longitu- 

itial Willi, 'llie RR-ater imml)er of its clcroatory 

iiidowswcr'' Imilt up. iIh atrinra gone, and decay 

1,1 whii.-wa-^li hail iloiu- much to cffitce its l)cauty, 

hieh iievertheh'Hw BtTmw tohave struck all tra- 

L-lliTf with nilmiratinn. an combining in itself 

the lust rcniiuisffnci' iif Pagan Kome with the 

irlifst forms < if tin- ( 'hriwtian world. It certainly 

■aM the most iiitei-enting, if not quite .the nioRt 

beautiful, of the (.'linstian buildings of that city. 

ITifi third ri-nisUil basilien, that of San Gio- 

mni Ijkteniiio, diffefH in no essential respect 

fnim ihiise juwt dcKCrilx'd except in dimensioDs ; 

I about 60,0uO ft., and eonsc^jucntly is inferior in this 

.JL— J.. 

L PUd of SU. Miri* M>«- ' 

Bk. I. Ch. 11. 



respect to tlie other two. It hae been so conipletcly altered in modern 
times that its primitive arrangements can now hardly bo discerned, 
while the effects of these, if there were any peonliar to it, cannot now 
bo detected. 

Like the other two, it appcaru to have been originally erected by 
Constantine, who eeeme especially to have affected this five-aisled form. 
The churches which he erected at Jerusalem and Bethlehem, both have 
this niunber of aisles. From the similarity which exists in the dcttign 
of all theflo churches we might easily restore this building, if it were 
worth while. Its dimensions can easily Iw traced, but beyond this 
nothing; remains of the oHfcinal erection. 

Df those with three aisles by fur the finest iind most benutiful is 
that of tita. Maria Klaggiorc, which, notwithstanding the comparatiTe 
siimllness of its dimcnsionii, is now perhaps the best specimen of its 
ctiiHs remaining. Internally its dimensions are 1 00 ft. in width hj- 250 
to the front of the apse ; the whole arai lieing about 32,000 ft. : so that 
it is little more than half the size of the I^teran church, and lietween 
one-third and one-fourth of that of the other two five-aisled churches. 



Pakt II. 

NottvithHlitiicliii^ tliiM thiTL' in great bfaiity in itu intornal colonnade, 
all tl)c (lilliirH i.if »'hii'lk tiro uf one tU'sign, and bear a most pleasing 
pni)>ortiiin to the MiijH'rstructiire. Tlio ck'restory too in ornamented 
Avitli ]lilll^tl'rn 1111(1 pinclH. m)kkiii<; it a pkrt of the general design ; and 
with the roiif, wliii-h in jiiineleil with constructive propriety and aini- 
]i!ipity eomliiiied with siiffieieut rithness, serves to make np a whole 
whii'h gives a fur Wttir and inoro complete idea of what a basilica 
eitluT WiiM originallv, or iit liMKt might have bcieu, than any other 
church at Itown'. It is trui^ that both the piloetcra of the dereatoiy 
and the nxif nre mmleni. and in modem times the colonnade has been 
broken tlmnigh in two i)lm.'s; hut thone defects niutrt Iw oTcrI<x>ked 
in Judging (if tin- wiicilc, 

Aiuilher defect is that the Mide-ai«lei4 have been vaulted in modem 
times, and in Much a manner an to dcMtroy the harmony that ahonld 
exist U'tween the dift'erent jvirtK of the building. In striving to avoid 
the defii't uf making the wi^icrstnicture too high in proportion to the 
cohnuiiK. the iii'chiUvt lias made the central roof tot) low either for the 
width .ir length <.f the uuiin aisle. Still the Iniilding. as a whole, is 
perhaps the very lii-sl iif all the woollen- roofed chiirchea of ChriBtrai- 
dnni, and the Itext miidi.'l fniiu which to stndy the mcrita and defects 
of tliis style of architi-t'tiin-. 

Anotlur mode of gi-ltiiig over the gioit defect of high walls over 
the pillarN was ado[iteil. ;is in Sta. Agiicse and St. Lorenzo, of using a 
gallery corresponding with Uio 
triforium of Gothic churchea. 
In both thcM' inetancee it seems 
to hiivu K-i'U suggested, jf not 
rc<|uind, by the peculiarity of 
the ground, which was higher 
on one side than on the other : 
hut wliethcr this was the tnie 
cause of its adoption or not, the 
effect was mottt satisfitctoty, 
and hiid it Ix-cn persevered in, 
s" as to bring the upper colon- 
nade nuire into harmony of 
pi-ojxirtion with the other, it 
would have been attended with 
happiest resTilts on the style. 
\\ hether it wiio, however, that 
the Ijomaus felt the want of the 
broad plain 8]>aee for their jiaintings, or that they could not bring the 
upper arches into projjortioii willi the classical pillars which they made 
nae of, the system was uKkndonLd almost as kuou as adopted, and never 
ouue into general use. 

I(k. I. Ch 

. T,(i|{ENZO. 


It m ii..t iiMW vwy U, jiidj;.' of wimt file I'ffwt t.f this was in the 
originitl (■liimli ul' St. [.(irciuo. iiwiiif; tn the immermw Hltvvntiuns it ha^ 
nndLTg(ine, for thi' iiri);iniil (liiiroh of Cuntitantine HeeniH tu have been 
entirely swept nwiy. That of Pekgius which w« now Nce in in plan 
somewhat like tlmt of Sf«. Aguewj, only with five pillarB on each side 
of tlie nave, Ixirrowofl fmni home ancient wlifice, instead of w'ven, and 
tiifsu BHp]K)rt a hinizuntal architrave iiisteail of arelios. 

In the thirteenth century the iqwe wan (Icwtroyed and :i long nave 
added in that direction, sii that the altar was placed where the entrance 
yon orifjinally tiituated. Making diie alloivance for these ehangcH, it 
is iirolmljle tliat the annexed wnodeiit faithfully n-prcseuts the arrange- 
nientH of the Imilding as it stood in the sixth century, and is interest- 
ing, not only for its own sake, lint an representing the class of chnrch 
cri-ctcd at JeruHnleni and claewhere at this age, of which no very few 
sjiociiiienH now exist. It contains also the goims of nincli that waa 
afterwards lepiiMhieid in Gothic Churches. 'ITic np]>er gallery, after 
many nnHlificiitions. at last settled into a trifotum and the pierced stone 
slalis in the wiiid<.iws lNK?amc Iracerj-^but liefore these were leachcd a 

:-mr-oi-L mi ^iil i: tHi tbo ft«tnr«8 of the Etvle 

iifcT -if S^*. l^l•lrmuIls u one of the very 
■' -bv =.- >si ii.T<fn»Ting -.-f tbwe in Borne. It 
j-iiri-Z £-:caka i^t^. which prohably formed 
;>kr*. f TlrTbr-muv'i.'f Novanuinthehoiue 
f **.r >r£Li;>-r l*ii<len& who is mentioned 
:t St. r*al ki the end of his Second 
Et >'1t :■ ■ Tba- 'thv. and with wbcMn he ix 
:~i>iirl -dilr <u:d u> have resided dnrin)r 
ilf- T>r»:-)^n<.'v in K(>nie. The Tsnlts be- 
^-.-j*l trie oLnivh i-vrtainlr formed part 
' i k !.'• ii^tji mand'.-n. h> ai^rently do 
:1 -* f -sil-lin^ shxwn on the phin. and 
il»>.'l i-rhin! and i-n one side of the 
s.^.:-:..ri,-, \-ax wh.-ther thca- were u»ed 
f r ' "i-ri-Tijn i>urp.i«* before the erection 
■ :' :i.-- ii-v.-i.-b in the funrth centurj- in 
I y t; ' L.Miti~ tvriiiiu. In plan the church 
rtn.i::!.-' in ull ]>r->Uibi1ity very much an 
■ ri^u.illy iloi^i-d. itH nio^t strikii^ pe- 
v '.di-iritv K-iu^ the M-^TUontal form of the 
d(«.-, which may |i.»wibly hsTe ariisen from 
~ mi- j'lvuliitr armu^metit of the original 
t'lilMiii:!. It wuji n»i. however, fonud to bo 
I ■!•.-.■> iiii; in »ii itrehiii-ctiiral point of view, 
;tud wiv ii<>t i'<'n!it-i]Ufiitly^:^in oniph>yed. 
Tin- anin.-nd Kvtion prohably repre- 
?*ut> very in-.irly tJif orifnual form of the 
iiiiri-. though it luiK been k> encrosted 
with iii'.Ji-m occri-tions as t<> render it 
difficult to OMvrtuin what the first form 
nidly WIS. TIk- shafts of the pillarw 
niiiy hiiVf U'l'ii Imrrowed fmm Minic older 
■difii'i.'. I'Ut the capitals were clearly de- 
r-i^Lil to Mii'ixirt arvhcH. and must there- 
liii-i' In- lurly ChriHtian (fourth century ?), 
iinil iiiv iiiuiin!; the most elegant and 
iippri'iirialc s])ceimcn!i of the clatw in»w 

ex tit lit 

Sail f'lciiuiite, almvc allitdMl to, in San 
>?:mciliii. the colonnade isdivideil 


into spaces of thrco or four intercoltimniationa by MocVs of solid 
mawmry, which give great apparent solidity and strength to the 
bnildin^r, but at the expense of breaking it up into compartments, 
more than is agreeable, and these destroy that bcautj' of perMpcctive bo 
plaining in a continnous colonnade. This defect seemB to have been 
felt in the Santft I'raxede, where three of these blocks are introduced in 
the length of the nave, and snpi>ort uaeh a hold areh thrown aeroae the 
central aisle. The effect of this might have been most happy, as at San 
Miniato, near Florence ; but it has l>een wi clumsily niaiu^ed in the 
Roman example, as ta bo most destructive of all beauty of proportion. 

Some of the principal beautiea as well an some of the moat remark- 
able defects of these bosiliean churches arise from the employment of 
tMlumns torn from ancient temples ; where this has l)cen done, the 
beanty of the marble, and the exipiisite sculpture of the capitalw and 
friezes, give a richness and elvgHnew to the whole that go far to 
redeem or to hide the rudeness of the building in which they are 
encased. Bnt, on the other hand, the ditscrepancy between the pillars 
— Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian eoluniTwt being sometimes iisoil aide by 
aide — dewtroyit all nniformity, and the fragmentary character of the 
cntablatnrcs they supimrt is still more prejudicial to the continuity of 
the ix^rapective, which should be the greatest chami of these chnrehes. 
By degrees, the fertile quarries of ancient Home se<,'m to have become 
entirely exlianstetl ; and as the example of St, Paul's proves, the Ko- 
mans in the fourth century were incapiblo of manufacturing even a 
lndl imitation, and were at last forced to adopt some new plan of sup- 
porting their arcades. ITic church of SS. Nereo ed Achilleo is, per- 
liaps, the mctst elegant eJtample of this class, the piers l)eiiig light 
in'tjigdns ; but the most chjiracteristic, us well as the most original, is 
IJie Siiii Viucenito alle Tre Fontane, slmwn in section and elevation in 
tJie wiHidcut No. 258. It so far dcviatc's from the iwual basilicau 
arniugementD as alniiist ta dcscr\'e the appellation of (iothic. It haa 
the same defect as all the rest— it« pier ai-ches being too low, and for 
which there is no excuse here — but both internally and externally 
it KhowM a unifonuity of design and a desire to make every part 
ornamental that produces a very i)leasing effwt, notwithstanding that 


the whole is merely of briek, and tliat oruameiit is so sparingly applied 
as Iwiiely to \n event the building sinking into the class of mere utili- 
tarian erections. 

Among the most pleasing architectural features, if they may be n<> 
eallcil, i»f these churches, are the mosaic pivements that adoni the 
greater number. These were always original, being designed for the 
buildings in which they uie used, and foUowing the arrangement of 
the architecture surrounding them. The patterns too are always ele- 
gant, and approj)riate to the purix)se ; and as the colours are in like 
manner generally haiminiiously blended, they form not only a most 
ajjpnjpriate but most beautiful l>asement to the architecture. 

A still more importiint feature was the great mosiiic pictures that 
always adoined the semi-dome of the a|>se, representing most generallv 
the Siiviour seateil in glory surrounded by saints, or else some scene 
from the life of the holy j>ersonage to whom the church was dedicated. 
These mosjiics were genenilly continue<l down to nearly the level of 
the altar, and along the whole of the inner wall of the sanctuary in 
which the apse was sitiiated, and as far as the triumplml arch which 
separated the nave from the sjinctuary, at which jKunt the mosaic blended 
with the frescos that ad<nned the upi^^r walls of the central nave above 
the arcjides. All this made up an extent of ]:H)lychromjitic decoration 
which in theKse dark ages, when few could read, the designers of thoe 
buildings hcem to have considered as virtually of more imi)ortance than 
the architwtural work to which it was attached. Any attempt to 
judge of the one without taking into consideration the other, would be 
fonning an o]nnion <>n hearing but Imlf the evidence; but taken in 
conjunction, tlie ])aintings go far to explain, and also to rtHleem, many 
|K>ints in which the architecture is most o}>en to criticism. 


During the whole jKriod wlien the Komanescjue style was mo^^t 
iiourishing, the city of Kavtima ahnost rivalleil in imix>rtanc*e the old 
capital of the world, ainl lier churches were conseiiuently hardly le«N 
important either in numlKr <»r in riclmess than th(>se we have just 
been docribing. It is true she had none so large as the great metro- 
l>olitan l)asilic}is of St. IVter and St. Taul. The one live-aisled church 
she possessed — the cathedral -has l)cen entirely destroyed, to make 
•way for a very contem]»tible modern erection. From the plans, how- 
ever, which we [M>ssess (►f it, it si'cms to liave differed very consider- 
ably from the Koman examples, most Cvspecially in having no tnux? of 
a transept, the building being a peifectly regular piralleh^ram, half 
as long again as its breadth, and with merely one great apse added at 
the end of the cential luive. Its loss is the moie to K' regretted, as it 
wais, besides l)eing the largest, the oldest church in the city, having 


liK. II. Ch. II. RAVENNA. 375 

been erected about the year 4C0, by ArclibiBhop Ursuo. The baptistery 
that boluuged tu it hau beeu fortunately preeerA'cd, and will be de- 
Mcribed hereafter. 

Beaidofl a considorablo number of other churches which have either 
been Just or destroyed by repair, Itaveuna Htill 
pOHtietieeH two firet-claw three-aisled baailicas, 
^tho Pan Apallinare Kuovo, originally an 
Arian church, built by I'huodorie, king of the 
(JothH (a.d. 493.6i5) ; and the S, Aiwllinare 
in GaBflc, at the Port of Ravenua, situated 
about three miles from tlie city, commenced 
A.ii. 538, and dedicated 549. Of the two. the 
first-named is by far the most conniderable, 
being ai5 ft. long by H5 in width exter- 
nally, while the other only mcaHures 21(3 ft, 
in length by 104, It in now called S. Mar- 
tino in Cielo d'Oro from its having been de- 
cided in the twelfth century that the other 
church in ClaBse poBaessed the true body of 
the saint to which both churches were dedi- 
cated. Aa will bo seen by the plan, it is a 
jierfc-ctly regular basilica with twenty-two 
]iillarB on each side of the n^ve, which is 
.51 ft. in width, nic licma in well niiM.>d, 
and forma a wort of incipient transept in front 
of theapMO, and it poaxeHHeBaliandsomeUiirthex .^ 
with eight pillars in front. 

Tho great merit of these two baHilicua as 
com]iareil with those of Itome, arises from the i 
circumstiince of Havenna Irnving poNscsscd no 
ruined temples whose siwils could be used in 
the coustrucfiiin of new buildings. Conae- 
ipiently the architects, being obliged to think 
for themselves and dewigu every detail, intro- 
ducetl a degree of harmony into their propor- 
tions utterly unknown in the Koman examples. 
From the woodeut No. 2(J0, representing three 
ai-chos of the nave of S. ApoUinare Nuovo, it 
will be aeon that the pillars are pleaaingly 
spaced ; their capitals, surmounted by a block 
representing the architrave, euEBcc for the sup- 5 
port of the arches that spring from them ; tho 
triforium belt is adorned with figures, and is of pleasing proportions ; 

' A. K. vun Qmiat, ' Die AltchriaUicben Buuwcrkc Ton BsTenun.' 

Hk. T. Ch. II. 



and the window over each arch fills up the remaining height to the 
riM)f, without either overcrowding or leaving any sjiace tliat is not easily 
filled up by the decorations applied. It is true the parts do not all 
(piite harmonize, but the entire architecture of the building is an 
immense stride in advance of the Koman style. All this is still more 
upjKirent in the woodcut No. 2r)l, taken from the angle where the nave 
joins the apse in the Ajx)llinare in Classe, which shows a still further 
advance towards forming a new style out of the classical elements : a 
little more and the transition would bo almost complete. It is still 
easy, however, not only to trace the derivation of every detail from the 
classical model, but also to see that the architect was trying to adhere 
to that style as far as his means and his purposes would allow. 

p]xtemally these buildings appear to have remained to the present 
hour almost wholly without architectural embellishment. It was con- 
sidered sufficient for ornamental purposes to make the brick arches 
necessary for the construction slightly more prominent and important 
tlian was actually required. As if impelled by some feeling of anta- 
gonism to the practice of the heathens, the early Christians seem to 
have tried to make the external appearance of their buildings as unlike 
those of their predecessors as was possible. 'Whether this was the 
cause or not, it is certain that nothing can well be less ornamental than 
these exteriors ; and even the narihex, which in the 
Ai)ollinare in Classe aiforded an excellent oppor- 
tunity for embellishment, could not be less orna- 
mental if it were the entrance to a bam instead of 
to a church of such richness and beauty as this in 
all its internal arrangements. 


At Parenzo in Istria there is a basilica, built 
in the year 542 by the Bishop Euphrasius, and 
consequently contemporary with these examples 
at Ravenna. This church t^ssesses its atrium, 
biiptistery, and other accompaniments, which those 
at Ravenna have lost. It consists of a l)asilica in 
three aisles, with an apse at the end of each, and 
an atrium in front, beyond which is situated the 
baptistery ; and in front of this again a tower, 
with a circular chamber in it, though this latter 
feature seems to be of more modern date. On one 
side at the east end is a chapel or crypt ; but it 233. ( imrcii at Riren 
is by no mciins clear to what age it belongs, and for 
what ])urpo8e it was erected. It is apparently an excrescence, while all 
the (►ther part^ l>elong to the original design. Internally the church 
is 121 feet in length by 32 in width, and jjossesses all the usual arrange- 

irenzo iu 




menfat uf a church uf that dat«^ Some uf its ptllarB are ot the Corin- 
thian ordi-r aDil are borTow<^ fr(»ii wime oldtr «dific«, hat others arc 
of part' Byzantini- tj'!* (woodcut No. 264). and, were they all like 
thiit- would ohlige ns to defer the description of the building to a later 
pagr. It mar, howerer. be r^ardedasa trans- 
ition specimen, but one of sach beauty as to 
\ '.-^^L make us n^ret that the faarbariaiu on the other 

^hf^'!^^^^^-^ — ^B xi^*-' "f t^*^ Adriatic had not atodied or appicci- 
nti-d itK btflut^-. Externally the fo^ade retains 
Home of the painted derorationa which aeeta to 
have h.'en so fashionable at the time it was 
ercct«l, but internally they have been entirely 
pii'lt'd off the nave, and though the apee ia rich 
in marbles, mosaic and paintings, they are of a 
much later dat*; than the building itself. Aa 
an edifice of the ^:e of Justinian, and as show- 
ing the relative jKisitiun of the various parts 
iliut made up au ecclesiastical establishment iu 
K siiigiilarly deserving of the attention of thoae to 
whom the history of art is a matter of interest. 

those earlv times, il 



The church at Torcello in the Venetian I,agune, is the last example 

n\\ lie neccMsary to quote in order to make the arrangements of the 

{■imani'sqiie ItasilicaH intelligible- It was 

iriginally erfctcd in the seventh century ; 

inil though altered, perhaps to some extent 

ebnilt, in the first year of the eleventh 

-^ etntury, it still retains much of the ar- 

/^^^iO^^^/% nin^remeut aud character of the original 

^ T^^ ^ ^^^jg^^ _ f^^ ehurches probably possess 

the old arrangements in such complete 

nesHas this, or imprcfiB the beholder with 

an iiir of greater antiquity. The wholo 

width of the church is 71 ft. internally 

by 125 in length. One of its most 

striking [x«iiliaritic3 ie the dispropor- 

tioiial u'idth of the central aa compared 

with the side aisles, the latter being 

only 7 ft. wide. A screen of six pillars 

divides the nave from the sanctuar}'. 

I'erhaps, however, the moat interesting 

part of this L-hurch is the interior of its 

whidi still retains the bisliop's throne, surrounded by six nageu 


^"^— H 

)M> numrCfann 

of suats for liiu proslijtery, arrangid like those of an ancient theatre. 
It prcwntH one of the most cxU-nwive and best preBerved examples of 
the tittiiigN of the apw, and gives a better idea of the mode in which 
Ihe apseB of ehni-chos wci-e originally arranged, than anything that in 
to he found in any other ehurch, either i>f its age or uf an earlier 

Like btfl I 1 nt a a (wood t \o. 2:<j) and I'urenzo, this chureh 
[HiiSHefwea a Bninll side ehapol, a vestry or «mctuaiy, on the Gospel side 
f a very perfect baptistery niay still be 
. This was a sijuare bloek, ext«rnally, 
utenmlly an octiigon, with the angles 
In the n;ar uf the church stDod the 
V passage the conventual buildings ; in 
frunt of which now stands the beautiful little church of Stji. Fosca, tho 
H'liole making up a group of nearly unrivalled interest couMidering its 
small dimensions. 

Other examples might be quoted differing in some slight rchpect 
fVom those just given, but the above are probably sufficient to explain 
the general arrangements of the early Btwilican ehurches, and the style 
of their architecture, so long as it remained pure Komanemiue ; in 

of the altar, 
trjiced in front of the west doi 
nieasuring 37 ft. ciioh way; 
<:ut into hemispherical niches 
eauipanile, and across a narn 

zf^p f»yiLkSf>*^rE Ai&:Hrna7rrEiL Fiw n* 

fkhffr wottU. *r/ l*'f^ «i It ointmi&^ii eil Icily &> ht a •&»<« i2e«i«rtix?tk 

frrim the K<>C£MR .•tvl*^. with^iHt *av fi-ntcca *biiixtiirt '^>r rairtw»- It 

CTjfD^ if If:ft *Io&«^: t»> •ifrV'rtjfie iUtcH »■& IB* EACTV^ *>tL fc*lt It W-«^:>4zId 

Yre ^>at r^ {jUrj^r. .StrmftAnr»yn>Iv witK tK-e •rl*bt..rfcti»Tii "jf ^itt mn^stnac^aiMr 
fffnn f4 chniT.'h W the Iti*Iiazb«w the BrzazLCUhe» vv^ir ccenptcd with 
the Muw: ta^k ; l>«it. l^eing frv-^r fvi^n th^ trftznmel^ •:«€ tTiditi»^ti ai^i k«» 
inAuffW:*A hy frxftmpi<!r}4. th«^T issu-It arriTeti at ^jra» mvrli ii»'>r^ 
diTergrmt frr>m thfine of th*:- cLie)n»:!:d peri :»i than xbiome of Italy. an»i 
tb<fir ffty]^. Tfis^rtiik^ an th*-. IlaIUd. pr^in*:-^! that Tirry licaatifal ccHm- 
ImatK/n, of which Pia^ (athtinlrsJ U a type, aiki Sc llark*s at V^»iit.v 
an extreme example. Thw jstyle g^-nerally pervailr^i the whi:4e 2»»>«ith 
t4 Italy, with the exf>:y*ti«>Ti of R.-m** : an«L fir'>m the *:rleineiits of which 
it was cr/mprjHe^l. may f«irly be d«^^igiiat«ed Byzantine: Italian. 

^liile thi^ wa8 g*>ing <>n in th*^ s^oath the L* 'Dgk>hani^ tike G*>tlk)s. 
and othf-r I^rlAriaiL*^ who invadtr*! the north *A Italv, s^ixied on tliis 


type and wotYuA it ont in their «>wn tk<hi<.'n. They, however, had 
a mania for Ktone vault#-<l ro*>ls whi^h k-d to moi^t important nnidifi- 
catioiui of the style. It may prohably be o^rrtctly assorted that n»» 
Rtfnnanei><r(ne or B^-zantine Italian cLareh has. or ever had. a Tanlted 
nave, ^yn the other hand, there L$ hardly a Barbarian ehnrch which the 
ImildeTK did not ai<i)ire to vault. th«»n^h they were frequently unable to 
acoompliMh it. It wan thii» vaulting mania which Ie«l to the invention 
r/f comprmnd piers, p*>inted arches, bultn.-ss^.-s, pinnaclo:^, and aU the 
nomeroiis pt<'uliaritics *^i the Gothic style ; and which, reacting on 
northern Italy, prMluctxl the CthiU-dine or Italiain Gothic Style. 

No exact boumiar^- can be drawn between thesie two. modifications 
of style varie<l, a« Byziintiiie «»r Gothic intiuences ebbed or flowed 
dtirii^ the middle agt.-^. ^\nice and Pisa, and all Calabria, were gene- 
rally influenced by their interomrse with the East, while the whole i>f 
the north of Italy and away from the c«jai»t as far down as Sienna and 
Qnricto the strong hand of the Teuton made itself felt. 

Yet Italy cannot be said tn have been successful in either style. 
Her snperior civilization emibleil her to introduce and use an elegance 
of detail unknown north of the Alps; but she did not work out the 
BmilicHn type for herself; she left it to others to do that for her, and 
oonaeqnently never i>erfectly uudersto«.)d what she undertook, or why 
it was done- The result is that, though great ek^ance is found in 
puu^ts, Italy can hardly pnxluce a single church which is satisfactoiy 
as a design; or which would be intelligible without first explaining 
the basework of those true styles from which its principal features 
lianre been borrowed* 





Circular Churches — Tomb of Sta. Costanza — Churchea at Pcrugifl, Noccro, 

Ravennn, Milan — Secular Buildingd. 

In addition to the Pagan basilicas and temples, from which the 
arrangements of so many of the Christian eiiifices were obtained, the 
tombs of the Romans formed a third tyjK), from which the forms of a 
very imjwrtant class of chnrches were derived. 

The form which these buildings retained, so long as they remained 
mere sepulchres appropriateil to Pagan uses, has been already described 
(pp. 818 to 322). That of Cecilia Metella and those of Augustus and 
Hadrian were what would now be called ** chambered tumuli ;" ori- 
ginally the sepulchral chamber was -infinitessimally small as compared 
with the mass, but we find these being gradually enlarged till we 
approach the age of Constantine, when, as in the tombs of the Tossia 
Family, that called the tomb of Helena (woodcut No. 2 1 8) and many 
others of the same age, they became miniature Pantheons. The central 
apartment was all in all ; the exterior was not thought of. Still they 
were appropriated to sepulchral rites, and these only, so long as they 
belonged to Pagan Rome. ITie case was different when they were 
erected by the Christians. No association could be more appropriate 
than that of these sepulchral edifices, to a religion nursed in persecution, 
and the apostles of which had sealed their faith with their blood as 
martyrs ; and when the Sacrament for the dying and the burial service 
were employed, it was in these circular churches that it was jx^rformed. 
But besides the viaticum for the departing Cliristian, the Church provided 
the admission Sacrament of Baptism for those who were entering into 
communion, and this was, in early days at least, always performed in a 
building separate from the basilica. It would depend (m whether 
marriage wjis then considered as a sacrament or a civil contract, whether 
it was celebrated in the basilica or the church ; but it seems certain 
that the one was used almost exclusively as the business place of the 
community, the other as the sacramental temple of the sect. This 
appears always to have been the case, at least when the two forms existed 
together, as they almost always did in the great ecclesiastical establish- 
ments of Italy. \Vh(;n the church was copied from a temple, as in the 


African examples above de«eribed, it is probable it may have «erved 
both purposes. But too little is known of the architecture of this 
early age, and it« liturgies, to speak positively on the subject. 

The uses and derivation of these three forms of churches are so 
distinct that it would be extremely convenient if we could appropriate 
names to distinguish them. The first retains most appropriately the 
name of Basilica and with sufficient limitation to make it generally 
applicable. The word ecclesia, or eglise, would equally suffice for the 
second but that it is not English, and has been so indiscriminatelv 
applied, that it could not now he used in a restricted sense. The word 
kirk, or as we soften it into church, woidd be appropriate to the third,* but 
again it has l)een so employed as to be inapplicable. We therefore 
content ourselves with employing the words Basilica, Church and 
Hound Church, to desigmite the three, emploving some expletive when 
any confusion is likely to arLse between the first two of the series. 

The most interesting feature of the early Romanesque circular 
buildings is that they show tlie same transitional progress from an 
external to an internal eolnmiuir stvle of architecture which marke<l 
the change from the Pagan to the Christian form <>f sacred edifice. It 
is perhaps not too much to assert that no ancient classic building of 
cireidar form has any pillars used cimstruotively in its interior. Even 
the Pantheon, though 143 ft. 6 in. in dijimeter, derives no assist- 
ance from the pillars that surround it internally — they are mere 
decorative features, llie same is true of the last Pagan example we 
are acquainted with, — the temple or tomb which Diocletian erected in 
his palace at Spalatro (woodcut Xu. ISO). The pillars do fill up the 
angles there, but the building would l)e stable ^\'ithout them. Hie 
Byzantine architects also generally declintHl to avail themselves of 
pillars to sup)X)rt their donies, l)ut the IJoniancFque architects useil 
them almost as universjillv as in their Uisilieas. 

Another very striking peculiarity is the entire abandonment of all 
external decoration. Roman circular temples had jx^ristyles, like those 
atTivoli (wo<xlcut No. 185) and that of Vesta in Rome. Even the Pan- 
theon is as remarkable for its portico as its dome, so is that known as 
the Torre dei Schiavi,* but it is only in the very earliest of the Chris- 
tian edifices that we find a tnue of a portico, and even in them hardlv 
any attempt at external decoration. The temples of the Christians 

* That is on tlie supjKMiition that the j nians. Why the Germans should <mji]oy 
wofdkirk is derived from the Latin word | KupiaKhv oIkos, when neithi-r the Gix^ks 
•• oircUB." •* circular, * an the Fi^nch term it, i nor the Latins use<i that name, is a nijfe>tery 
**cizqDe." My own conviction is that this ; which tliose who uisist on these vcr^ iiupio- 
Is oeitainly the citse. The word is only bable names have Aj* yet failed to explain, 
lued by the Baibarians as applied to a form ^ Isabelle, * Edificc^s Cireulaires,* plates 
of Imildiiig they dtrivetl from the Ro- ' 26 and 27. 


were no longer shrines to eontain statues and to whieh worship might 
l)c addressed by ptH)plo outside, but had become halls to contain the 
wor8hipj)ers themselves while engaged in acts of devotion. 

llie tomb of the Emi)re88 Helena (woodcut No. 218) is one of the 
earliest examples of its class. It has no pillars internally, it is true, 
but it likewise has none on the exterior — the transition was not then 
complete. The same is the case with the two tomlws in the Spina of the 
("ircus of Nero (woodcut No. 247). They too are astylar, but their 
extei nal appearance is utterly neglected. 

\N hen from these wo turn to the Tomb or Baptistery of Constantine, 
built sometime afterwards (woodcut No. 207), we find the roof sup- 
ported by a screen of eight columns, two storeys 
in height, and through all its alterations can detect 
the eftbrt to make the interior ornamental. It 
has, however, a portico, but this again is practi- 
cally an interior, both ends being closed with 
apsidal terminations, so that it re^illy forms a 
second apartment, rather than a jKntico. Jn both 
these respects it is in advance of the building next 267. Riptist^'oofConstAntine 

, Vwm lMb?lle. 

to it m age that we know of — the octagon at Spa- Sc^iip loo n, to i in. 
latro — which it otherwise very much resc^-mbles. 

The eight internal pillars instead of being 'mere ornaments have l)ecome 
essential parts of the construction, and the external ])eristyle has dis- 
aj)])eared, leaving only the fragment of a porch. 

The tomb which the same Em})eror erected to contain the re- 
mains of his daughter CWstantia, is another exam])le of the same 
transitional style. The interior in this 

* — 

instance is vaulted, but so timidly that 
twenty-four pillars are employed to sus- 
tain a weight for which half that number 
would have been amply sufficient. In the 
K(juare niche opposite the entmnce stood, 
and stands, the Sfircophagus of the prin- 
cess. The roof of the aisle is adorned 
with Jointings of the vintage and scenes of lacij 
rural life, which, like all those on the '^a-^. Piun ..r the Tomb of stu Costanw, 

Uon)i>. From If-alx-Ur*, ' hxlificesClrcu- 

tombs of Pagan Kimie, have no reference Liiros.* Scaie loo ft to i in. 
to the sepulchral uses to which the build- 
ing was dedicated. Tlie whole internal diameter of the tomb is 73 ft., 
that of the dome 35. 

In front of the building is a small crypto-porticus similar in arrange- 
ment to that of her father *s tomb, and beyond this is an oblong s^mce 
with circular ends, and surrounded on all sides by arciides; its dimen- 
sions were 535 ft. by 1 30, and, though so ruined as hai dly to aUow of 
its arrangements being restored, it is interesting, as being perhaps 


Pabt ir. 

tho only inntancc of 

larly dispom.'d in it* 
horizontal arfhitrax 

This is more cine 
Angeli, at PeniKin, ■ 

tho "forum," which it is prohablo was left before 
all tombe in those times, and 
traces of which may perhaps be 
found elsewhere, thongh as yet 
they have not been looked for, 

Tho only other important 
eircuUr building within the 
wallw of Rome of this early age 
iH that known as S. Stephano 
Kotondo. Though there is no- 
thing to fix its date with any 
precision, it is almost certain 
that it belongs to the fifth and 
sixth centuries of the Christian 
era. It is 210 ft. in diameter, 
and its roof was Kiip£>orted l)y 
two ranges of columns, circii- 
thc first or inner range n»tcd a 
:c that of St. IVter's. In the outer one the 
])il!iirs support arc-lics like those of St. Panl's. 
All the jiillarw are takun from older buildings. 
The outer aisle was divided into eight com- 
rw piirtments ; but in wliat manner, and for what 
I J jinrpose, it is not now easy to ascertain, owing 
to the very ruined state of tho building. Nor it lie deteniiinod exactly how it wa« 
riHjfi'il ; though it is probablu that its ar- 
ran gfin cuts wi're identical with those of the 
grout fivc-jiislnl 1«nili«i8, which it eloscly re- 
Nt'tiibli's. except ill its circular shape. 

.f the same age, that of Sti. 
hieh is very similiir in its di«i»o8ition. Of IIijn 

JiK. I. Ch. TII. 


huililing ti miction iu hero hIiowti, ns given by M, Isabclle — perhaps not 
ijuitc to be depended upon incvery respect, hut still affordingaveryfeir 
representation of what the nrrangcnienttj of the circular wooden-roofed 
churches were. Its dimensions are loss tlian those of Sun Stephaao, 
bcinj; only 1 1 5 ft. in dinmeter ; but it is more regular, the greater part 
of its materials being apparently original, and mudo for the place they 
occupy. In the church of San StejiLano, the tomb-shaped circular form 
was probably used as sjiTubolical of liis martyrdom. That at Perugia 
wiifi most likely originally a l)aptiHterj-, 
or it may also have boon dedicated to 
some martyr ; but in the heart of 
Etruria this form may have been 
adopted for other reaBons, the force 
of which wo are hardly able at the 
present day to appreciate, though in ;il 1 
cases locality is one of iho strougist 
influencing powers as for as architec- 
tural forms are concerned. 

At Xocera dei I'agani, on (he rowl 
betweeu Itomo and Naples, there is an 
extremely beautiful circular church, 
built undoubtedly for the purpose of a 
baptistery, and very similar in plan and s 
general arrangement to the tomb of 

Constantia, now known na the Itaptistery of St, Agnese. though some- 
wliat larger, being SO ft. in diameter. Its principal merit is the form of 
itn dome, which is not only correct in a scientific point of view, but 
singularly graceful internally. Externally this building for the first 

DapllM'Ty nt Kami del Pi 


time introduces us to a peculiarity which had as much influence on the 
Western styles as any of those pointed out above. As before observed 
(p. 380) the Romanesque architects never attempted to vault their 
rectangular buildings, but they did frequently construct domes over 
their circular edifices. But here again they did not make the outside of 
the dome the outline of their buildings as the Eomans had always done 
before the time of Constantine, and as the Byzantines and Saracens in- 
variably did afterwards ; but they employed their vault only as ceiling 
internally, and covered it, as in this instance, with a false wooden roof 
externally. It may be difficult to determine whether this was a judicious 
innovation or not ; but this at least is certain, that it had as much in- 
fluence on the development of the Gothic style as the vaulting mania 
itself. In the tenth and eleventh centuries many attempts were made to 
construct tnio roofs of stone, but unsuccessfully ; and from various 
causes, which will be pointed out hereafter, the idea was abandoned, 
and the architects were forced to content themselves with a stone 
ceiling, covered by a wooden roof, though this is one of the radical 
defects of the stjic, and one of the principal causes of the decay and 
destruction of so many beautiful buildings. 


liavenna possesses several circular buildings, almost as interesting 
as those i»f the capital ; the first being the baptistery of St. John, 
belonging to the original basilica, and consequently one of the oldest 
Christian buildings of the place. Externally it is a plain (K3tagonal 
building, 40 ft. in diameter. Internally it still retains its original 
decorations, which are singularly elegant and pleasing. Its design is 
somewhat like that of the temple at Spalatro, but with arcades substi- 
tuted ever)' where for horizontal architraves ; the century that elapsed 
between these two epochs having sufficed to complete the transition 
between the two styles. 

Far more interesting than this is the great church of St. Vitale, 
the most complicated, and at the same time, perhaps, the most beau- 
tiful of the circular churches of that age. In design it is nearly identical 
with the Minerva Medica at Rome,^ except in its being an octagon in- 
stead of a decagon, and that it is wholly enclosed by an octagonal wall, 
whereas the Roman example has in addition two curvilinear winga, 
endoeing its sides. There are also some minor alterations, such as the 
introduction of gaUeries, and the prominence given to the choir ; but 
still nothing at all to justify the title of Byzantine, usually applied to 
this church. It is in reality a bad copy from a building in Rome, and 
very nnlike any building in the East we are acquainted with, tbough 

» Sec p. 325). 

Bk. I.Cii. III. 


no doubt there are certain fonoB of Gimilarity. as indeed miist bo Eound 
in all the buildings of the ago before the final separation of tho two 
Churches took place. 

As will be seen from the annexed plan, the diameter of the external 
octagon is 1 10 ft., of the internal one only 50, wo that the dome hero is a 
third less than that of its prototjpe, and 
so completely had the architects degene- 
rated from the dome builders of Rome, 
that instead of the Bcientific construction 
of the Minerva Medica, this is wholly 
composed of earthen pots, and protecte<l 
by a wooden roof. It is true these pots 
bavo been used in the East for domes 
and roofs from the earliest ages, that they 
form as stable and as permanent a mode 
of covering as sttme itself, and that they 
might with facility be so used as to sur- 
pass tho heavier material for this pur- 
pone. Itnt such is not the case hero : ' T r 
and though it apptearsinTidious to blame ''"'■ ''"'p^ lUS.i't''"""™' 
that which has stood the wear and tear 

of thirteen centuries, and has witnessed the fall of so many of ita 
younger and more aspiring rivals, tho construction of this dome serves 
mther to show bow excellent thf expedient in, than the method by 
which it can best be applird. 

Internally a good deal has been done in modern times to destroy 
the simplicity of the original effect of the building ; but still there is a 
pleasing result produced by alternating the piers with circular columns, 
and a lightness and elegance about the whole design that render it 
unrivalled in the \Vestem world among churches of its class. It seems 
to have been admired by its contemporaries as mnch n* it is in modem 

2 ^^ 


Pa8T II. 

timot. l^lmrlemagno at all eventscopicd it for his own tomb at Aix-la- 
Chapellu, and tlio aruhit«;tB of many other circular bnildings of that 
age appear to have derived thuir inspiration from this one. 

The chnrch of San T.orenzo at Tllilan, had it' not been so mncb 
altered in modem times, would take precedence of San Vitale in almost 
every respect. The date of its erection is not known, though it 
certainly mnet bo as early, if not earlier than the time of Justinian. 
Down to tho 8th centiirj' it was the cathedral of that city. It yvaa 
burnt to tho gnmnd in 1071, and restored in 1119: the dome then 
erected fell in 1 571, on which it underwent its last trtmaformaticai 
frcim the hands of Martino Bassi and Pellegrini, who so disfigured its 
ancient details as to leave considerable doubt as to its antiquity. 

Its plan, however, seems to have remained unchanged, and shows a 
further progress towards what afterwards became tho Byzantine style 
than is to Iw found cither in the Minerva Medica or in San Vitale. It 
is in fact the earliest attempt to bring the circular church to a square 
shape ; and except that the four lateral colonnades aro fiat segments of 
circles, and that there in a little clumsiness in the angles, it is one 
of the most suecesitful designs handed down from that early ago. 

The dome as it now stands is octagonal; which the first dome cer- 
tainly could not have been. Its diameter is TO ft., nearly equal to 


that of the Minerva Medica, and the whole diameter of the building 
is internally 142 ft. 

In front of the church, in the street, is a handsome colonnade of 
pillars, borrowed from some ancient temple — it is said from one dedi- 
cated to Hercules ; this leads to a s(|uaro atiium, now wholly deprived 
of its lateral arcades; and this again to a fa9ade, which has been 
strangely altered in modern times. Opposite this, to the eastward of 
the church, is an octagonal building, apparently intended as a tomb- 
house ; and on the north side a similar one, though smaller. On the 
south is the baptistery, about 45 ft. in diameter, approjiched by a ves- 
tibule in the same manner as that of Constantine at Home, and as in 
the tomb of his daughter (^onstantia: all these, however, have been so 
^minfully altered, that little remains besides the bare plan of the build- 
ing; still there is enough to show that this is one of the oldest and 
mo.^t interesting of the Christian churches of Italy. 

The building now known as the bai)ti.>tery at Florence is an 
octagon, 108 ft. in diameter externally. Like the last-mentioned 
church, it was originally the cathedral of the city, and was erected to 
soi-ve as such apparently in the time of Theudelinda queen of the Lom- 
bards. If this was so, it certainly had not originally its present form, 
and most probably those columns which now stand ranged round the 
walls, at that time 8toc»d in the centro,.as in the Koman examples. If 
the original roof was of wood, it was probably in two storeys, like that 
oi' the baptistery of Constantine, or it niiiy have been a dome of more 
solid materials like that of the 8ta. Costanza. 

At the same time when the new c;ithedral w^is built, the older 
edifice appears to have been reniudellcd botli internally and externally 
by Arnolpho da Lapo, and both its form and decoration .so completely 
changed, that it must be considered rather as a building uf the 13th 
century than of the Gth, in which it seems originally to have been 

There can bo little doubt that many other similar buildings belong- 
ing to this age still exist in various parts of Italy; for it is more than 
probable that, at a time when the city was not of sufficient importance, 
or the congregation so numeious as to require the more extended accom- 
modation of the basilica, almost all the earlier churches were circular. 
'I'hey either, however, have perished from lapse of time, or liave been 
so altered as to be nearly unrecognisable. We here, in consequence, 
come again to a break in the chain of our sequence, and when we 
again meet with any circular buildings in Italy, their features are 


lu this building tliey now uliow u kiitco- 

phagua of ancient date, said to be tliat of these ugi-s it 18 impossible to diiitinguibh 

Galla Piaeidia, daughter of Thcodo»iut$. 
She, liowcvcr, was eertainly hiu-ieil at Ua 

vunnn, but it may be of Iier tinu', aind in 

between baptisteries and tondw. 





Tumb orOalla IMucidia, 
From t^uast. No scale. 

BO distinctly Gothic or Byzantine, that they must be dassed with one 
or other of these modifications. The true Eomaneeque had nearly oome 

to an end when Alboin the Lombard had made 
himself master of the greater part of Italy about 
the year 575. 

Before leaving this branch of ihe subject 
there are two small buildings at Kavenna which 
it is impossible to pass over, though their direct 
bearing on the histoiy of this subject is not so 
apparent as it is in the case of other buildii^ 
just described 

The first and earliest is the tomb of Galla 
Placidia, now known as the church of SS. Na- 
zjirio and Celso, and must have been erected 
before the year 450. It is singular among all the tombs of that tige 
from the abandonment in it of the circular for a cruciform plan. Such 
forms, it is true, are common in the chambers of tumuli and also among 
the catacombs, while the church which Constantine built in Constanti- 
nople and dedicated to the Apostles, meaning it however as a sepulchral 
church, was something also on this plan. Notwithstandmg, however, 
these examples, this must lx> considered as an exceptional form, though 
its diminutiveness (it being only 35 ft. by 30 internally) might perhaps 
account for any caprice. Its great interest to us consists in its retaining 
not only its original architectural form, but also its polychromatic deoo- 
mtions nearly in their original state of completeness.* The three arms 

of the cross forming the receptacles for the three 

sarcophagi is certainly a pleasing arrangement^ 

but is only practicable on so small a scale. Were 

^" tm the building larger, it woidd lose all appro- 

WTbitylo round Thcudonc's Plli*»'CnLSS OS WCll dS ail Cnect. 

Tomb. From Huhsch. y^j. more interesting than this — architec- 

turally at least — is the tumb of Theodoric, the 
(jothic king, now known as Santa Maria Ro- 
tunda. The lower storey is a decagon externally, 
enclosing a cruciform crypt. It is 45 ft, in dia- 
meter, each face being ornamented by a deep 
niche. These supjwrt a flat ten-ace, on which 
ait. PUuofTombof riieoioric. oriffinallv stood a range of small pillars support- 

SoOe 50 ft U> 1 in. . ° '^ . ° * ^*^^ 

ing arches which suiTounded the upper storey. 
These have all been removed, though their form, as shewn above, can 
be restored from fragments found. On the face of the tomb itself are 
the sinkings for the architraves and vaults which they 8ui)ported. The 

TlieHe aro well illuHlmtcKl i:i Quast, ' Alt Chribtlichen Bauwerke zu liaveniiu.' 
by Uubscb ami otbem. 


most eingular part of the building is the roof^ which ia formed of one 

great slab hollowed out into the form of a flat dome — internally 30 H. 

and externally .'i.'j ft. in diameter— and 

which certainly forms one of the most 

unique and appropriate coverings for 

a tomb perhaps anywhere to he found. 

Near tho edge are a i-ango of false 

dormer windows, which evidently were 

originally used aa handles, by means of 

which the immense roaea was raised to 

it£ present position. In the centre of 

the dome is a small square pedestal, on 

which, itiBBaid,onccBtoodtheurn which - 

cijutained the ashes of its founder. 

The model of this building seeuus 
probably to have been the mole of 
Hadrian, which Thcodoric saw, and 
must have admired, during his celebrated visit lo Kome. The polygonal 
arrangements of tho exterior, and tho substitution of arcades for hori- 
zontal architraves, wore only such changes as the lapse of t'mc had ren- 
dered indispensable. Biit the building of the ancient world which it 
most resembles ie the Tour Mt^ue at .N iines. In both cases we have the 
polygonal basement containing a great chamber, and above this exter- 
nally tho niHTow ledge, approached by flying flightw of st«ps. We cannot 
now tell wliat crowned the French example, though tho fact of an urn 
crowning the tomb at Ravenna points tu iin identical origin, but we 
must obtain a greater number of examples before we can draw any posi- 
tive conclusions as to tho origin of such fojms. Sleanwhile, however, 
whether we consider tho apprnprialenees of tho forms, the solidity of ite 
construction, or the simplicity of its ornaments and details, this tomb 
at Kavouna is not surpassed by any building of its class and age. 

Though tlic investigation of the early history of these circular forms 
of churches is not so im[>ortaut as that of the rectangular basilicas, it 
is extremely interesting from the influtnoo they had on the subsequent 
development of the style. In Italy it is pn.bablo that one half of ihe 
early churches were circular in plan ; and one siich is still generally 
retained attached to each cathedral as a baptistery. Except for this 
purpose, however, the form has generally been superseded : the rec- 
tangular being much easier to constiuct, more cajMiblo of extension, 
and altogether more appropriate to the ritiial of the Christian com- 
munity. Jn Franco the circular form was early abhorbed into the 
basilica, forming the chevet or apsa In Germany its fate was much 
the same as in Italy, but its supcrcession was earlier and more complete. 
In Kuglaiid some half dozen examples arc known to exist, and in S|Miii 
ihey have yet to be diseoverwl. 



Had the Gothio architects applied themBelTcs to the extensitKi and 
elaboration of the circular form with the same zeal and akill aa was dis- 
played in that task by tlicir Byzantine brethren, they might probably 
have produced something far more beautiful than even the best of oitr 
medieiTal cathedrals, but when the Barbarians b^an to build they 
found the square fonn with its straight lines simpler and easier to 
coustruct. It thus happened that, long before they became as civilized 
and expert as the Easterns were when they oommenced the task, the 
Westerns had worked the rectangular form into one of consideTable 
beauty, and had adapted it to their ritual, and their ritual to it. It 
thus became the sacred and appropriate form, and the circular .or 
d<snical forms were consequently never allowed a f^ trial in Western 

SecULAK liuiLUlNOS. 

Very few remains of secular buildings in the liomanesque stylo are 
now to be found in Italy. The palace of Theoduric at Kavcuna, though 

,, j,-^ sadly mutilated, is pcihai>s the best and most 

|>crfeet. In all its details it shows a clof!e 

resemblance to that of Diocletian at tipalatro. 

1 iT^—'f pfiiif ^"* more especially no to the Porta Anrea and 

lH [ ^1 the moat nchl} and least classicall\ dccoiated 

J- v-'JW-i |.=i^S=l pirtsoffhatedifiee lutmuchinttrmi\edwifh 

mtuldm^ niid details bcl< nging jiroperlj to 

the (lothic stjks which wtre tlien on tho 

m of being introduced into gcnufal use 

\nothtr btiildmg ])erhapH slightiv moie 
modem is tint winch is now called the 
i'liLizzo diUc Torre at lurin which i.till 
return'^ the architectural ordinince of the 
exterior cf a lioman amphithuitre but bo 
modified ly G< tine feeling that iho pilas 
tcrs are c^cn m re useless and unmeanmg 
tlinii m its tluj>ie,il pet^tjpes In this ex 
I ample the st\ Ic jseMdenth beginning to feel 
itH own strength and learning to dispense 
wilh the traditional forms that Lil so lon^ 
go\ernLd if This building to whieh no 
miTo precibe date can be assigned than that 
j-i I iiBuo d u Tone T rin cf the igc between Justmian and Uhar 

From Oiim b Bnuwcrki* Indr, eei -i-LTi.^ 

Lomimniei km.igiK Is picbdbl> Bccn the List e\pinng 

effort of KomanesqiK arthileetiire m a Gothic 
country, though the paucity of contemporarj- examples renders it ex- 
tismely difScuJt to trace the exact history of the style at this age. 

Ill 80 progressive an art as architecture it is alwaj-s very difficult. 


souietimes impossible, to fix the exact date when que style ends and 
another begins. In an art so preeminently ecclesiastical as architecture 
was in those days, it will probably be safer to look in the annals of the 
(Church rather than in those of the State for a date when the Boman- 
e«que expired giving birth. Phoenix-like, to the Gothic Viewed from 
this point there can be little doubt but that the reign of Gregory the 
Groat (a.d. 590 to 603) must be r^arded as that in which the Latin 
language and the Homan style of architecture both ceased to be 

After this date we wander on through five centuries of tentative 
etForts to form a new style, and in the age of another Gr^ory — the 
VI I. — we find at last the Gothic style emancipated from former tradi- 
tions, and marching steadily forward with a well defined aim. What 
had been commenced under the gentle influence of a Theodelinda at 
Florence in the year 600, was completed in the year 1077 under the 
firmer guidance of a Matilda at Canossa. 









Division of Subject - Pointeil airclies — Provence — Churt'hea ut Avignon, Arlea, Alet, 
Fonti&oide, Mnguelone, Viciiiie — Circuhir churcla^s — Towers — Cloiisicrs. 



ChArleinagne a.i>. 76S-8I3 

Rollo, flnt Duke of Normandy .... 911 

HughCi^t 987 

William II. of Normandy, or the Con- 
queror 1U55-1086 

11 OH 

H«iry I. of France . . . 
liiilip I., or TAmoareux . . 
Louis VL, or le Grun . 
Louis VII., or le Jounc 

St, Bernard uf Cloirvaux 
PhlUp II, or I'Auguate . . 
liouis VIII.. or the IJuu . . 
Ixmis IX, or the Saint 


Philip III, the Hardy 
Philip IV., or the Fair 
Philip VI. of Valoia . 

Battb of Crecy 
John II, the Good. . 

. . . . AJ>. 1270 





Charles V., the Wise 13^4 

Charles VI., the Beloved 1380 

Charles Vil, tho Victorious 1422 

JiwnofArc 1413-1431 

I»uiM XI 14S1 

Charles VIII 1483 

I>ouis XII 1498 

Francis 1 1515 

To those who do not look l)eyond the ])re8ent, France appears to be oiio 
of the most homogeneous of all the countries of Kurope, inhabited by a 
people spe-aking one language, professing one religion, governed by the 
same laws, and actuated by the same fti^lings and aspirations ; yet it 
certainly is not so in reality, and in the middle ages the distinetion8 
between the various races and pcx)ples were strongly marked and 
capable of easy definition. Wars, ]XirscK;ution8, and revolutions, have 
done much to obliterate these, and the long habit of living under a 
centralized despotism has produced a superficial uniformity which hide» 
a great deal of actual diversity. The process of fusion, commencsed 
apparently about the reign of Louis the Saint (a.d. 1226), and has gone 
on steadily ever since. Before his time France was divided into six or 
eight great ethnographic provinces which might now Ijc easily ma]>|)ed 


out, though their boundaries frequently differed widely from the 
political divisioD of the land. 

No xyiittittiHtic attempt has yet been made to construct an ethno- 
graphic map uf the country from the architectural remains, though it is 
easy to sue how it might be done. What is wantfd is that some com- 

' A Eiuall chart of tlio semo eort has I l<«at publishctl, it in impossible to mBrk 
buon publishcil by M. dc Cuumont ■ which, oat more than tho gcntml features of the 
though iin itnpruTcmeat still leovea much chart. Imperfect, however, aa Ihey are in 
to be desired : but unlil cTeiy church is Ihis one, tbey ore kUII moro natnermu and 
L'lnuiiuetl. and every typical tpecineD at I moro detailed than it will be i<nsy for uii 
- .-. _ to follow and to Irncc out in the liiidlcil 

•■ ' AlHlttiluin! d'Arrhltatarr.' p. 111. spouc ol tWut work. 


petent archasologist Bhould do £Dr the ethnography of France what 
Dr. W. Smith did at the end of the last century for the geology of 
England. Like that early pioneer of exact knowledge in his peculiar 
department, he must be content to wander from province to province, 
from village to village, visiting every church, and examining every 
architectural remain,, comparing one with another, tracing their 
affinities, and finally classifying and mapping the whole. It is 
probable that the labour of one man would hardly suffice for this pur- 
pose. Monographs would he required to complete the task, but it is 
one of such singular interest that it is hoped it may soon be under- 

One of the great difficulties in attempting anything of the sort at 
present is the nomenclature. AVhen the science is further advanced, 
such names as Silurian, Cambrian, &c., will no doubt Ix) invented, but 
at present we must be content with the political name which seems 
most nearly to express the ethnographical distribution; though in 
scarcely a single instance will these be found strictly correct, all in 
consequence being oi)en to adverse criticism. In France it frequently 
happened that two or more ethnographic i)rovinces were united under 
one sceptre — eventually all were merged into one — and during tlie 
various changes that took place in the middle ages, it was only by 
accident that the political boundary exactly agreed for any great length 
of time with the ethnographical. 

In Germany, on the contrary, a single luce is and was cut up into 
numerous political divisions, so that it l^ecomes, from the opposite 
cause alone, equally difficult to a])ply a nonieiiclature which shall cor- 
rectly represent the facts of the ciise. 

In such a work as this it would be manifestly absurd to attempt to 
adjust all this with anything like minute accuracy, but the princijial 
features are so easily recognized that no great confusion can arise in the 
application of such names as are usually oniployeil, and it is to be hoped 
that before long a better system of nomenclature will be invented and 

We may rest assured of one thing, at all events, which is that the 
architectural remains in France are tis sufficient for the construction of 
an ethnographic map of that country as the rocks are for the compila- 
tion of a geological survey. If the one opens out to the student an 
immense expanse of scientific knowledge, the other is hai'dly of less 
interest, though in a less extended field. There are few studies more 
pleasing than that of tracing the history of man through his works, and 
none bring the former condition of humanity so vividly back to us as 
those records which have been built into the walls of their temples 
or their ^mlaces by those who were thus unconsciously recording their 
feelings for the instruction of their posterity. 

The fii*8t thing that strikes the student in examining architecturally 

Rk. II. Ch. I. 



the map of France is the recurrence of the same phenomenon as was 
remarked in that of Italy, a division into two nearly equal halves by a 
lx)undary line running east and west. In both countries, to the south- 
ward of this line the land was occupied by a Romanesque people, who, 
though conquered, were never colonized by the Barbarians to such an 
extent as to alter their blood or consequently the ethnographic relations 
of the people. North of the line the Goths and Lombards in Italy, and 
the Franks in Graul, settled in such numbers as to influence very con- 
siderably the status of the races, in some instances almost to the 
obliteration of their leading characteristics. 

In France the boundary line follows the valley of the Loire near its 
northern edge till it passes behind Tours ; it crosses that river between 
that city and Orleans, follows a somewhat devious course to Lyons, and 
up the valley of the Rhone to Geneva. 

In the middle ages the two races were roughly designated as those 
speaking the Langiie d'oc and the Liingue d'oeil — somewhat more cor- 
rectly those to the south were called Romance,* those to the north 
Frankish ; but the truth is, the distinction is too broad to be now clearly 
defined, and we must descend much more into detail before any satis- 
factory conclusion can be arrived at. 

On the south of the line, one of the most beautiful as well as the 
best defined architectural provinces is that I liave ventured to designate 
as Provence or Proven9al. Its limits are very nearly coincident with 
those of Gallia Narbonesis, and " Narbonoso " would consequently be a 
more correct designation, and would be adopted if treating of a classical 
stj'le of art. It has, however, the defect of including Toulouse, which 
does not Ix^long to the province, and consequently the name affects an 
accuracy it does not ])ossess. It may, therefore, he better at present to 
adopt the vague name of the "Province" par excellences especially as 
Provencal is a word applied by French authors to literary matters much 
in the sense it is here used to define an architectural division. The 
wht>le of the south coast of France from the Ali>s to the Pyrenees 
l)elong8 to this province, and it extends up the valley of the Rhone 
as far as Lyons, and is generally bounded by the hills on either side of 
that river. 

Perhaps the best mode of defining the limits of the Aquitanian 
province would be to say that it includes all those towns whose names 
end with the Basque article ac, consequently indicating the presence at 
some former period of a people speaking that language or something 

' The use of tliis term is a little awk- 
ward at first from its banng another 
meaning in English ; it has, however, 
been long used by English etymologists to 
di8tin<j^i»h the Romance languages, such 
as Italian, Spanish, and French, from 

those of Teutonic origin, and is here used 
in precisely the same sense as applied to 
architecture — to those styles derived from 
the Roman, but one degree more removed 
from it than the Romanesque. 


very closely allied to it, or at all events diflfering from those of the rest 
of France. It is only on the eastward that the line seems difficult to 
define. There are some towns, such as Barjac, Quissac, Gignac, in the 
valfey of the Rhone, in situations that would seem to belong to 
Provence, and until their churches are examined it is impossible to say 
to which they belong. On the south Aquitania is bounded by the 
Pyrenees, on the west by the sea, and on the north by a line running 
nearly straight from the mouth of the Garonne to Langeac, near to lie 
Puy en Velay. 

The third is designated that of Anjou, or the Angiovine, from its 
most distinguished province. This includes the lower part of the 
Loire, and is bounded on the north-east by the Cher. Between it and 
the sea is a strip of land, including the Angoumois, Saintonge, and 
Vend^, which it is not easy to know where to place. It may belong, 
80 far as we yet know, to either Aquitania or Anjou, or possibly may 
deserve a separate title altogether ; but in the map it is annexed for 
the present to Poitou or the Angiovine province. 

In Britany the two styles meet, and are so mixed together that it 
ifl impossible to separate them. In that district there neither is, pure 
Eomance nor pure Frankish, but a style pirtaking of the peculiarities 
of each without belonging to either. 

Besides these, there is the small and secluded district of Auvergne, 
having a style peculiarly its own, which, though certainly belonging 
to the southern province, is easily distinguished from any of the neigh- 
bouring styles, and is one of the most pleasing to be found of an early 
ago in France. 

Beyond this to the eastward lies the great Burgundian province, 
having a well-defined and well-marked style of its own, influenced by 
or influencing all those around it. Its most marked characteristic is 
what may be called a mechanical mixture of the classical and mediasval 
styles without any real fusion. Essentially and constructively the 
style is Gothic, but it retained the use of Corinthian pilasters and 
classical details till late in the middle ages : Burg;undy was also in the 
middle ages the country of monasticisra jxir excellence — a circumstance 
which had considerable influence on her forms of art. 

Taking, then, a more general view of the Southern province, it will 
be seen that if a line were drawn from Marseilles to Brest, it w^ould 
pass nearly through the middle of it. At the south-eastern extremity 
of such a line we should find a style almost purely Romanesque, passing 
by slow and equal gradations into a Gothic form at its other terminal. 

On turning to the Fraiikish province the case is somewhat different. 
Paris is here the centre, from which everything radiates ; and though 
the Norman invasion, and other troubles of those times, with the re- 
building mania of the 13th century, have swept away nearly all traces 
cfihe early buildings, still it is easy to see how the Gothic style arose 


in the Isle of France, and how it spread from thence to all the neigh- 
bouring provinces. 

In consequence, however, of the loss of its early buildings, and of 
its subsequent preeminence and supercession of the earlier styles, the 
description of it« features naturally follows that of the subordinate 
provinces, and concludes the history of the mediaeval styles in France. 
Not to multiply divisions, we may include in the Northern province 
many varieties that will afterwards be marked as distinct in maps of 
French architecture, especially at the south-east, where the Nivemois 
and Bourbonnois, if not deserving of separate honours, at least consist 
of such a complete mixture of the Frankish and Burgundian, with the 
Southern styles, that they cannot strictly be said to belong to any one 
in particular, though they partake of all. The Northern, however, is 
certainly the predominant clement, and with that therefore they should 
l)e classed. 

To the westward lies the architectural province of Normandy, one 
of the most vigorous offshoots of the Frankish style ; and from the 
power of the Norman dukes in the 11th and 12th centuries, and the 
accidental circumstance of its prosperity in those centuries when the 
rest of Fi-ance was prostrate from their ravages and torn by internal 
dissensions, the Bound Gothic style shows itself here with a vigour 
and completeness not found elsewhere. It is, however, evidently only 
the Frankish style based remotely on Roman tradition, but which the 
Barbarians used with a freedom and boldness which soon converted it 
into a purely national Gothic form. This soon ripened into the com- 
])lete Gothic style of the 13th century, which was so admired that it 
soon spread over the whole face of Europe, and became the type of all 
Gothic architecture. 

Alsace is not included in this enumci*ation, as it certainly belongs 
architecturally to Germany. Lorraine too is more German than French, 
and if included at all, must be so as an exceptional transitional pro- 
vince. French Flanders belonged, in the middle ages, to the Belgian 
provinces l)ehind it, and may therefore also be disregarded at present ; 
but even after rejecting all these, enough is still left to render it dif- 
ficult to remember and follow all the changes in style introduced by 
these different races, and which marked not only the artistic but the 
political state of France during the middle ages, when the six territo- 
rial peers of France, the Counts of Toulouse, Aquitaine, Normandy, 
Burgundy, Champagne, and Flanders, represented the six principal 
provinces of the kingdom, under their suzerain, the Count or King of 
I'aris. These very divisions might now be taken to represent the 
architectural distinctions, were it not that the pre-eminence of these 
great princes belongs to a later epoch than the architectural divisions 
which we have points out, and which we must now describe some- 
what more at length. 



Past II. 

PoiJTTED Arches. 

Before proceeding to describe these various styles in detail, it may 
add to the cleame^ of what follows if the mode in which the pointed 
arch was first introduced into Christian architecture is previously ex- 
plained. It has already been explained that the pointed arch with 
radiating voussoirs was used by the Assyrians as early as the time of 
Sargon in the 8th century B.C., and by the Ethiopians as early as that 
of Tirhakah. The Etrurians and Pela^ used the form probably 12 
centuries b.c., but constructed it with horizontal courses. To come 
nearer, however, to our own time, the Saracens certainly adopted it at 
Cairo in the first century of the H^ra, and never apparently used a 
round arch after the erection of the mosque of Ebn Toidoun, A.D. 885. 

The l^)manes(iue traditions, however, prevented the Christians 
from adopting it in Europe till forced to do it from constructive 
necessities, and the mode of its introduction into the early churches in 
Provence renders them singularly important in enabling us to arrive at 
a correct solution of this much mooted question.* 

It is hardly worth while discussing whether the form was borrowed 
from the East, where it had been used so long before it was known — or 
at least before we are aware of its being known — in Europe. It may 
be that the Pelasgic Greeks left examples of it in Provence, or that 
persons trading to the Levant from Marseilles became fomiliar with its 
uses ; or it may be, though very unlikely, that it was really re-invented 
for the purposes to which it was applied. 

In whatever way it was introduced it at least seems certain that 
all the churches of Provence, from the age of Charlemagne to that of 
St. Louis, were vaulted, and have their vaults constructed on the 
principle of the pointed arch. It has nevertheless long been a received 
dogma with the anticpiaries of France as well as with those of England, 
that the pointed arch was first introduced in the 12th century — the 
first example being assumed to be the work of Abbot Suger at St. 
Denis (1144-52), the result of which is that all who have written on 
the subject of Provencal architecture have felt themselves forced to 
ascribe the age of the churches in question, or at least of their roo&, 
a date subsequent to this period. 

The use to which the Proven<;al architects applied the pointed arch 
will \h> evident from the annexed diagram, the left-hand portion of 
which is a section of the roof of one of the churches at Vaison. The 
object evidently was to lay the roof or roofing-tiles dii*ectly on the 
vault, as the Romans had done on their domes, and also, so fer as we 

I For the detail of the argumeut I must 
refer the reader to a paper read by me to 
the Institute of Britisli Architects on 
June 18th, 1849, and published in the 

'Builder,' and other papers of the time. 
See also a paper read in the same place 
in the following month (July, 1849), by 
Sir Gardner Wilkinson. 

Bk. U. Ch. I. POINTKl) ARCHES. 401 

kiiow, on those of their therma;. Had they used a circular vault for 
this purpose, it is evident, from the right-hand side of the diagram, 
that to obtain a straight-lined roof externally, and the necessary water- 
shed, it would have been requisite to load the centre of the vault to a 
most dangerous extent, as at a ; whereas with the pointed arch it only 
required the small amount of filling up shown at b, and even that 
might have been avoided by a little contrivance if thought necessary. 

283. IHugnun of Vaulting. South of France. 

By adopting the pointed form the weights are so distributed as to 
ensure stability and to render the vault self-supporting. It has already 
been observed that the Gothic architects everywhere treated their 
vaults as mere false ceilings, covering them with a roof of wood — an 
expedient highly objectionable in itself, and the cause of the destruc- 
tion, by fire or from neglect, of almost all the churches we now 
find in ruins all over Europe ; whereas, had they adhered either 
to the Roman or Komance style of rcM)fing, the constant upholding 
hand of man would not have been recjuired to protect their buildings 
from decay. 

The one obstacle in the way of the general adoption of this mode 
of roofing was the difficulty of applying it to intersecting vaults. The 
Komans, it is true, had conquered the difficulty ; so had the Byzantine 
architects, as we shall hereafter see, displa3'ing the ends of the vaults 
as ornaments ; and even at St. Mark's, Venice, this system is adopted, 
and with the additional advantage of the pointed arch might have been 
carried further. Still it must be confessed that it was not easy — that it 
required more skill in construction and a better class of masonry than 
was then available to do this efficiently and welL The consequence 
is, that all the Romance pointed vaults are simple tunnel-vaults without 
intersections, and that the Gothic architects, when they adopted the 
form, slurred over the diffioidty by hiding the upper sides of their 
vaults l^eneath a temporary wooden roof, which protected them from 
the injuries of the weather. This certainly was one of the greatest 
mistakes they made : had they carefully profiled and ornamented the 

VOL. I. li J) 


exterior of the stone roofs in the same manner as they omamented 
the inside, their buildings would have been not only much more 
beautiful, but much more permanent, and the style would have been 
daved from the principal falsity that now deforms it. Even as it is, if 
we wished intelligently to adapt the Gothic to our purposes, instead 
of merely copying it, this is one of the points to which we ought first 
to turn our attention. 

Another circumstance which may be alluded to here, when speak- 
ing on this subject, which led to the adoption of the pointed arch at 
an early age in the southern provinces of France, was the use of domes 
as a roofing expedient. These, it is true, are not found in Provence, 
but they are common in Aquitaine and Anjou — some of them certainly 
of the 11th century; and there can be little doubt but that these are 
not the earliest, though their predecessors have perished or have not 
yet been brought to light. 

There is no one who has studied the subject who is not aware how 
excellent, as a constructive expedient, the pointed arch is as applied to 
intersecting vaults, but it is not so generally understood why it was 
equally necessarv' in the construction of domes. So long as these 
rested on drums rising from the ground the circular form sufficed ; but 
when it became necessary to rest them on pendentives in the angles of 
square or octagonal buildings, the case was widely diff(^nt. The 
early Byzantine architects — in Sta. Sophia for instance — did fit pen- 
dentives to circular arches, but it was with extreme difficulty and 
required very great skill both in setting out and in execution. But 
the superiority of the ix>inted form was perceived at an early date; 
and the Saracens, who were trammelled by no traditions, adopted 
it at once and employed it as a doming expedient as exclusively as 
the Gothic architects adhered to it in the construction of their vaults 
— and for the sjime rous<:»n — 8imi)ly because it was the best mode of 

It is easy to explain why this should be so. In the annexed 
diag^m, fig. I represents the ix^ndentives of a dome resting on circular 

26*. Flo. 1. Fig. 2. Vm. 3. 

ai"ches. At A they Ixxraiue evanescent, and for some distance from the 
centre are so weak that it is only by concealed construction that they 
can be made to do their work. AVhen the pointed arch is introduced, 
as in fig. 2, not only is great freedom obtained in spacing, but the 
whole becomes constructively correct ; when, as in fig. 3, an octagonal 
an-angement is adopted, the whole l>ecomes still more simple and easy. 

Bk. U. Ch. I. 



and very little adjustment is required to fit a dome to an octagon, and 
if the angles are again cut oflf, so as to form a polygon of 16 sides, all 
the exigencies of construction are satisfied. 

At St. Front P^rigeux, at Moissac, and at Loches, we find ihe 
pointed arch, introduced evidently for this purpose, and forming a class 
of roofs more like those of mosques in Cairo than any other buildings in 
Europe. It is true they now look bare and formal — their decorations 
having been originally painted on stucco, which has peeled off; but 
still the variety of form and perspective they afford internally, and the 
character and truthfulness they give to the roof as seen from without, 
are such advantages that we cannot but regret that these two expedients 
of stone external roofs and domes were not adopted in Gothic. Had 
the great architects of that style in the 13th century carried out these 
Avith their characteristic zeal and earnestness, they might have left us 
a style in every respect infinitely more perfect and more beautiful than 
the one they invented, and which we are copying so servilely, instead 
of trying, with our knowledge and means of construction, to repair the 
errors and omissions of our forefathers, and out of the inheritance they 
have left us to work out something more beautiful and more worthy of 
our greater refinement and more advanced civilisation. 

The practice of the Greeks in resjK^ct to their I'oofs was a curious 
conti*ast to that of the Mediaeval architects. Their architecture, as 
before remarked, being essentially external, while that of the middle 
ages was internal, they placed the stone of their roofs on the outside, 
and took the utmost pains to arrange the covering ornamentally ; but 
they supported all this on a framework of wood, which in every 
instance has perished. It is difficult to say which was the greater 
mistake of the two. Both were wrong, without doubt. The happy 
medium seems to be that which the Romance architects aimed at — a 
complete homogeneous roof, made of the most durable materials and 
ornamented, both externally and internally; and there can be little 
doubt but that this is the only legitimate and really artistic mode of 
effecting this purpose, and the one to which attention should now be 

This early mode of employing the pointed arch is so little under- 
stood generally that, before leaving this branch of the subject^ it may 
be well to quote one other example with a perfectly authentic date. 

The Church of St. Nazaire at Carcassone was dedicated by Pope 
Urban II. in 1096. It was not then quite complete, but there seems 
no doubt but that the nave, as we now find it, was finished by the year 
1100. As will be seen from the annexed section, the side-aisles and all 

^ The Scotch and Irish Celts socm to have 
liud a conception of this truth, and in both 
these countries we find some bold attempts 

at true stone roofs : the influence, however, 
of the Gotliic races overpowered them, and 
the mixed roof became universal. 

2 D 2 



Purr 11. 

the openinga Rre oonatructed with round arches ; but the difficulty of 
vaulting the nave forced on the architeota the introdoction of the 
pointed arch. It in here constructed solid, with Sat ribe over each pillar, 
and without any attempt to pierce it for the introduction of light; and 
as the west end is blocked up — fortified in fiict — the resolt is gloomy 

This example is also interesting when looked at from anoUier point 
of view. If wo turn back to woodcuts Nob. 180 and 181, and c(«upare 
them with thiii section we shall bo able to guago exactly the changes 
which were introduced, and the prepress that was made during the 
1000 years that elapsed between the erection of these two buildings. 
In the plan of the temple of Diana at Nimes, we have the same three- 
aiuli^ arraugement as at Carcassone. Their dimensions are not very 
dissimjlar; the uavo at Ntmes is 27 ft. wide, the aisles T^ ft. in the 
clear. At (.'arcasBono this becomes 'io ft. and 10 ft respectively. The 
aisles arc in the early example separated from the nave by screen 
walls, adorned with pillars which are mere uruamenta. In the later 
example the pillars have become the main support of the roof, the wall 
being omitted between them. 

The roof of the nave in both instances is adorned with flat ribs, one 
over each pillar ; but at Nimes the rib is rather wider than the space 
between. At Carcassone the rib occupies only onefourth of the 
width of the bay. One of their most striking difiereaoes is, that Ntmes 
displays alt that megalithic grandeur for which the works of the 
Romans were bo remarkable ; while at Carcassone the masonry is little 
better than rubble. It need hai-dly be added that the temple displays 
an elegance of detail which charms the most fastidious taste, while the 

Bk. II. Ch. I. PROVENCE. 405 

decoration of the church is nide and £Eintastic, though no doubt pic- 
turesque and appropriate. The last remark must not, however, be un- 
derstood as a reproach to Gothic art, for the choir of this very church, 
and the two outer arches shewn in the woodcut No. 285, were rebuilt 
in the year 1331, with an elegance of detail which, in a constructive 
sense, would shame the best classical examples. The nave is a tentative 
example of a rude age, when men were inventing, or trying to invent, 
a new style, and before they quite knew how to set about it. The 
builders of Carcassone had this temple at Nimes standing, probably 
much more complete than it is now, within 120 miles of them, and 
they were attempting to copy it as best they could. It is probable, 
however, they had also other models besides this one, and certain that 
this was not the first attempt to reproduce them. The differences are 
considerable ; but the similarities are so great that we ought rather to 
be astonished that ten centuries of experience and effort had not shewn 
more progress than we find. 


There are few chapters in the history of mcdii«val architecture 
which it would be more desirable to have fully and carefully written 
than that of the style of Provence from the retirement of the Romans 
to the accession of the Franks. This country, from various causes, 
retained more of its former civilization through the dark ages than 
any other, at least on this side of the Alps. Such a historj', however, 
is to be desired more in an archaeological than in an architectural point 
of view, for the Proven9al churches, compared with the true Gothic, 
though numerous and elegant, are small, and most of them have 
undergone such alterations as to prevent us from judging correctly of 
their original effect. 

Among the Provencal churches, one of the most remarkable is 
Notre Dame de Doms, the cathedral at Avignon (woodcut No. 286). 
Like all the others, its dimensions are small, as compared with those in 
the northern province, as it is only 200 ft. in length, and the nave about 
30 ft. in width. The side-aisles have been so altered and rebuilt, that it 
is difficult to say what their plan and dimensions originally may have 

The most remarkable feature and the least altered is the porch, 
which is so purely Romanesque that it might almost be Buid to be 
copied from such examples as the arches on the bridge of Chamas 
(woodcut No. 212). It presents, however, all that attenuation of the 
horizontal features which is so characteristic of the Lower Empire, and 
cannot rank higher than the Carlovingian era ; though it is not quite 
so easy to determine how much more modem it may be. The same 
ornaments are found in the interior, and being integral parts of the 
ornamentation of the pointed roof, have led to various theories to 


aucount for this copying of cliissiuil details after tbo period at which it 
was AfiBumc-d that the pointed an-'h )tad been introduced. It has been 
sufficiently explained above, how early this was the case as a vaulting 
uxpcdicnt in tins quarter ; and that diffieiilty being removed, we may 
safely ascribo the whole of the essential parts of this church to a period 
not long hubsefpient to the age of (.'harlemagne. 

Kext perhajis in importance to this, is the church of St. Trophime 
at Aries, the nave of which, with its pointed vault, probably belongs 
to the same age, though its porch (woodcut Ka '^87), instead of being 
the earliest part, oa in the last instance, is here the most modem, having 
been erected in the 1 1 th century, when the church to which it is attached 
acquired additional celebrity by the translation of the body of St~ 
Trophime to a final resting-place witlrin its walls. As it is, it forma a 
curious and interesting pendent to the one last quoted, showing how 
in the course of four centuries the style had passe*! from debased Koman 
to a purely native form, still retaining a strong tradition of ita origin, 
but so nsod and so ornamented that, were wo not able to trace back tho 
steps one by one by which the porch at Avignon led to that of Aries, 
we might almost be inclined to doubt the succession. 

The porches at Aix, Cuxa, Coiistonges, IVades, ^'alcabre, Tarascon, 
and ebewhero in this province, form a series of singular interest, sod 


of great beauty of detail mixed witi all the rich exuberance of our own 
Norman doorways, and follow one another by such easy gradations 
that the relative age of each may easily be determined. 

The culminating example is that at St. Giltee, near the mouths of 
tlie Rhone, which is by far the most elaborate church of its class, but 
HO classical in many of its details, that it probably is Komewhat earlier 
than this one at Aries, which it resembles in many rcsjiects, though 
far ojcceeding in it magnificence. It consiste of three such porchee 
placed side by side, and connected together by colonnades— if they 
may be so called— and sculpture of the richest class, forming alt<^other 
u frontal decoration unsurpassed, except in the northern churches of 
tho 13th century. Such porches, however, as those of Ifheiios, Amiens, 
and Chartres, surpass even these in elaborate ridmces and in dimen- 
sions, though it may be questioned if they are really more begiutiful in 

There is another church of the Carlovingian era at Orange, and one 
at Niraes, probably belonging to the 9th or 10th century; both how- 
ever very much injured by alterations and repairs. In the now deserted 
city of Vaison there are two churches, so classical in their style, that 


we are cot fmrprised at )l. laborde. and the Frencli antiqnaries in 
general, clashing them u remains of the claarical period. Tn «nj 
other eountrv on this rade of the Alps ench an inference wunld be in- 
eritAble ; but here another code of criticism mtist be apfdied to them. 
The oldcot. the chapel of St. Quinide. belongs probably to the 9th or 
10th century-. It is small, bat remarlubly elegant and elanioftl in the 
style of ite architeclnre. The apse is the most singular as well as the 
most ancient part of the church, and is formed in a manner of which 
no other example is foiiml anywhere else, so far as I know. Exter- 
nally it in two sides of a squure. internally a semicijcle; at each ai^le 
of the exterior and in each face is a pilaster, &irly imitated from tbe 
Corinthian order, and sopportiog an entablature that might very ivdl 
mislead a Northern antiquary into the error of suppofdng it wtw » 
I'agan temple. 

The cathedral, though larger, in more Gothic both in plan and 
detaU. though not without some classical features, and is entirely &«e 
from the bold rudeness of style wo are so accustomed to associate with 
the architecture of the 1 1th century, to which it belongs. Its systein 
of vaulting has already been explained (woodcut Xo. 263), hut neither 
of these buildingx hjive yet met with the attention they so richly merit 
from those who are desirous of tracing the prepress of art fmm the 
decline of the ]>ure liumuii to the rine of the tme Gothic stylcR. 

. ApvuTCIiunbU AM. Fnoi Tajlur unl NaiUcr, ■ Vuragn di 

fin. II. Cn. 1. 



Taking it ftltc^ether, perhspn the nioet elegant epecinien of the 
style is the mined — now, I fear, nearly destroyed— church of Alet, 
which, though belonging to the 1 1th century, was singularly classical in 
its details, and wonder- 
fully elegant in every 
part of its design. Of 
this the apse, as hav- 
ing undergone no sub- 
sequent transfomiation, 
wss by far the most in- 
teresting, though not the 
most beautiful portion. 
The upper part whs 
adorned with dwarf Co- 
rinthian pilasters, sur- 
mounted by a cornice 
that would not discre- 
dit the buildings of Dio- 
cletian at Spalatn) ; the 
lower part by forms of 
more Mediicval charac- 
ter, but of scarcely less 
elegance. In Iho inte- 
rior the triumpliiil arch. 
an it would be called 
in a Itiiman basilica, is 
adorTied by two Corin- 
thian pillars, designed 
with the bold freedom of the age, though rctaiuing Iho classical forms 
in a most unexpected degree. 

The rest of the church is as elegant as thcwc parts, though for less 
classical, the necessities of vaulting and constniclion requiring a 
different mode of treatment, and a departure from conventional forms, 
wliieh the architect does not seem to have considered himself at liberty 
to employ in the apse. 

Another singularly elegant specimen of this style is the church of 
at. i'aulauTroi8Chat«iU\,nearAvignon (woodcuts Nob. 290, 291). Its 
details are so client and so classical that it might almost be mistaken 
for a building of the Lower Empire anterior to Justinian's time. Its 
plan, however, and the details of its construction prove that it belongs to 
a luueh more modem date ; Viollet le Due would even bring it down as 
low as the 12th century. It hardly seems possible that it should be su 
moilcm as this ; but the truth is, the whole history of the Homance style 
e has still to be written. It has not yet been examined 
it deserves by any competent authority, and till it is we 

itomol Allele oT ApK M 


must bo content with the knowledge that, in the neighbourhood of the 
BoTichos du Rhone, there exista a group of chnrchce which, dniwing 

their inHpiration from the classioal 


with which the oountty IB 
studded, exhibit an el^anoe of 
detiign as exquisite as it is in 
itrange contrast with the rade vi- 
gour—almost vulgarity — which 
characterized the works of the 
Normans in the opposite comer 
of the land at the eame period. 

Passing from the round-arched 
to the pointed modifications of 
this style, the church at Fonti- 
froide, near N'arbonne, shows it in 
its complotcneMs, perhaps better 
than any other example. There 
not only the roof is pointed, but 
all the constructiro openings have 
asKumed tlie Htime forms. The 
windows and doorways, it is tme, 
still retain their circular heads, 
and did retain them as long ss 
the native style flourished — the 
[Kiinted-headcd opening being 
only introduced by tho Franks 
under Simon dc MoDtfort 

The section across the nave 

shows the form of the central 

vault, which the other section 

shows to be a plain tuunel-vanlt 

unbroken by any intersection 

throughout the whole length of 

the nave. Tho side-aisles are 

roofed with half vaults, forming 

abutments to the central aivhe« 

— the advantage of this constmc- 

tion being, as before explained, 

that the tiles or paving-stones of 

the roof rest directly on the vault 

without the intervention of any 

carpentry. Internally also tho 

building displays much elt^nt simplicity and constructive propriety. 

Its chief defect is the darkness of the vault from the absence of a 

clerestorj-, which, tliough tolerable in the bright sunshine of the 

lid not be borne in the more gloomy North. It was to 




cnirect thiB, as we shall afterwards perceive, that in the North the roof 
of the aiHles was first raised to the height of that of the central nave, 
light being admitted through a gallery. Next the upper roof of the 
aisles was cnt away, with the exception of mere strips or ribs left as 
flj-ing buttressee. Lastly, the central vault was cut up by intersec- 
tions, so as to obtain space for windows to the very height of the ridge. 
It waa this last expedient that necessitated the adoption of the pointed- 
headed window ; which might never have been introduced hut for the 
invention of painted glass, but this requiring larger openings, compelled 
the architects to bring these windows close up to the lines of the con- 
structive vaulting, and so follow its forms. In the South, however, 
painted glass never was, at least in the age of which we are now 
Hpcaking, a favourite mode of decoration, and tho windows remained 

so small as never to approach or interfere in any way with tho lines of 
the vault, and they therefoi-o retained their national and more beau- 
tiful circnlar-headeil termination. The modes of introducing light are, 
however, undoubtedly the most defective part of the arrangements of 
the Troven^al churches, and have given rise to its being called a 
" cavem-likc Gothic," ' from the gloom of their interiors as compared 
with tho glass walls of their Northern rivals. Still it by no means 
follows that this was an inherent characteristic of the style, which 
could not have been remedied by further experience ; but it is probable 
that no ingenuity would ever have enabled this style to display these 
enormous surfaces of painted glass, the introduction of which was, if 
not tho only, at least the principal motive of all those changes which 
took place in the Franldsh provinces. 

It would be tedious to attempt to describe the numerous churches 
of tho lUh and 12th centuries which are found in every considerable 

■ Wood's ' LetteiB of an Aichilect.' rol. i. p. 1G3. 


town in this province : imme of tlieiu, lioweTcr, such as Bllne, St. 
Guillem lo Deeei't, St. Martin de Landres, Vignogonl, Valmagne, 
Lodi've, &c., deecnt! particular attention, as eiemplifFing this style. 

not only in its earlier for 
stjle, though differing ^ 

but after it had passed into a pointed 
considerably from that of the North. 
Among thee^ there is no church 
more interesting than the old 
fortahcc'like chnrch of Magne- 
lone, which, from its exposed 
situation, open to the atta<^ ot 
Saracenic corsairs as well as 
Christian robbers, looks roor» 
like a baronial castle than a 
peaceful church. One of its 
doorwaj-s shows a carious ad- 
mixture of classical, Saracenic. 
and Gothic taste, which conld 
only be found here ; and as it 
l«ars a date (1 178), it marks an 
epoch in the stj-le to which it 

Had it been completed, the 
church of St. Gilles would pcr- 
hupH have been the mo«it splendid 
■ of the province. Its portal has 
already been spoken of, and is 
certainly withcmt u rival ; and the lower churcli, which belongs to the 
11th century, is worthy of its magnificence. It was, however, either 
never finishtil, or was subsequently ruinei! along with the upper 
church, which was c<mimenced in the year 1116 by Bnymood IV„ 
Count of St. fiillos. Thin too was pn)l>ably never completed, or, if it 
was, it was mined in the wura with the llugiienotK. Even in its 
present state, and though wantiTig the richnens of the earlier examples, 
it pcrhopu surjiasNCH them all in the excellence of its masonry, and the 
architectural propriety of nil its parts. 

Besides these, there is an important church at Valence of the 11th 
century, which seems to be an almost exjiiriug eflort of the " cavem- 
like " style, in other respects it resembles the Xorthom styles so 
mnch as almost to remove it from the l'roven5al class. This is even 
more true of the calhedral at \ienne, which is nevertheless the largest 
and finest of the cliurches of l*rovence, but which approaches, both in 
style and locality, very closely to the Burgnndian churches. 

Its plan ie extremely simple, having no transept and no aisle trend- 
ing round the apse, as in the case with most of the Northern chnrchoi. 
It consistfl of 3 aisles, the central one 3:> ft. wide K-tween the piers, the 

»K. n.CH-i. 



others 14 ft The buttresses are utemal, aa was uaual in the South, 

forming chapels, and making up the whole width externally to 11 3 ft. by 

a length over all of 300. so that it covera 

Bomewhere about aO,000 sq. ft. This is 

only half the dimensionB of some of the 

great Northern cathedrals, but the absence 

of transepts, aud its generally judicious 

proportions, mahe this church look much 

larger than it really is. 

ITie west front and the 3 westom bays 
nre of the Kith century ; the next 7 are of 
an early style of pointed architecture, 
with semi-Koman pilasters, which will be 
described in speaking of Bui^ndiau 
architecture, aud which belong probably 
to the 11th or beginning of the I2th cen- 
tury. The apse is ascribed to the year 
952, but there are no drawings on which 
dependence can bo placed sufficient to 
determine the date. 

Uesides this, there is another church, 
HL Andr^ le Bas at Vienne, belonging to 
the 11th century, whoso tower is one of 
the most pleawing inHtanccs of this kind 
of composition in the province, and though 
of the Honuin and Italian campaniles, display 
seldom met with beyond the Alps. 


idently a lineal descendant 
amount of design 


'ITie round sliapo seems never to have been a favourite for sacred 
buildings in Provence, and consequently was never worked into the 
iipsL-H of the churches, nor became an important adjunct to them. One 
of the few examples found ie a small baptisteiy attachc-d to the cathe- 
dral at Aix, either verj- ancient or built with ancient materials, and 
now painfully modernised. At Kiez there is a circular detached 
baptisterj', usually, like the churches at Vaisoii, called a pagan temple, 
but evidently of Christian origin, though the pillars in the interior 
seem undoubtedly to have been borrowed from some more ancient and 
classical edifice. But the finest of its class is the church at Kieux, 
probably of the 11th century. Internally the vault is supported by 
4 piers and 3 pillars, producing an irregularity far from pleasing, and 
without any apparent motive. 

At I'lanes is another church the plan of which deserves to be quot«d, 
if not for its merit, at least for its singularity : it is a triangle with an 




apee attached to each side, and snpportiug a circular part terminating 
in a plain roof. Aa a conntructive puiale it is cnrions, bot it is doubts 
ful how &r any Ic^timate use ooold be 
made of such a capricdo. 

There is, so tar as I know, only one 
triapeal church, that of SL Croix at Mont 
Majour near Arlee. Built as a ee^ulchivl 
chapel, it ie a singularly gloomy but appro- 
piiate erection ; but it is too tall and too 
bare to rank high as a building even for 
wjch a purpoeo, 

ftovence is &r from being rich in 
towers, which never seem there to have 
been fiiTourite forms of architectaral dis- 
jilay. That of St. Andri^ lu Itas at Vienno has already been alluded to, 
but this at l*uisHulicon (wuodcut No. 296) near B^ziers is even more 
typical of' tlio style, and standing as 
it now does in sontarv grandeur among 
the ruins of the church once attached 
to it, has a dignity seldom poasesaed 
by such monuments. In style it re- 
Hi-mbKtt the towers of Italy more than 
any found farther North, but it is not 
without jKCuliaritiefl that point to a 
different mode of elaborating this 
jieculiar feature from anything found 
clscwlierc. As a design its principal 
dffiijt Hetms to be a want of light- 
ness in tho upper storey. Tho single 
circular opening there is a mistake in 
a building gradually growing hghter 
towards its summit. 

These towers were very seldom, 
if over, attached ayinmctrically to the 
churches, ^\"hen height wiis matlc an 
objt-ct, it was more frequently at- 
tjiiiied by «irrj-iiig up tho dome at 
the intersection of the choir with tho 
uitvc At Aries this is done by a 
heavy square tower, gr,idually dimin- 
ishing, but still massive to the top ; 
From RnioDvirt. l*"* '" most instances the square 
becomes iiu octagon, and this again 
8 into a ciit-le, which terminates tlio composition. One of the beat 
IB of this class of domes, if they may be so called, is tho church 

llK. II. Ch. I. 


of Cruas (woodcut Xo. 297), where these parta are plcaeingly suboi'di- 
iiatcd, aitd form, with the apscB on which they rest, a very beuutiful 
compoBitioii, The defect is the tiled roo& or offseta at the junction of 
tlio various storeys, which give an appearance of weakness, as if the 
upper parts could slide, like the joints of a telescope, one into the 


Ontdl at Cnno. From Taj- and Vud 

iitlicr, Tliis could cosily bo avoided, and protxilily was so in the ori- 
giiiiil design. If this were done, wo have hero the principle of a more 
pictisiug crowning member at an intersection than whs afterwards 
UHod iu pointed architecture, and capable of being applied tu domes 
of any extent. 

Nearly all, and certainly all the more importiint churches of which 
we have been speaking, were collegiate, and in mich establishments 
tile cloister forms as im|Kirtant a part as the church itself, and fre- 
qucptly the nioro beautiful object of the two. In our own cold wet 
eliuuite the cloisters lose much of their appropriateness; still they 
always were used, and always with a pleasing effect ; but in the 
warm sunny South their charm is increased tenfold. The artists 
seem to have felt this, and to have devoted a lai^e share of tlieir 
attention to these objects — creating in iact a new style of architecture 
tor this Bpccial purpose. 

With us tlie arcades of a cloister are generally, if not always, a 

41 1; 


range of unglazed windows, presenting the wme featnrea as those of 
the church, which, though beautiful irhen filled with glwi, are Kme- 
what out of place without that indispensable adjonctL In the Sooth 
the cloiater in never n window, or anything in the least approaching to 
it in design, but a raage of email and d^ant pillats, sometiiQea tongue, 
aomctimee coiip]e<1, generally alternately bo, and sapporting anltea of 
light and ilcgimt dcfiign, all the features being of a chaiact«r suited 
to the place where thov arc used, and to tlkat only. 

The cloiKter at Arlvs lias long occupied the attention of trsvellera 
and artistn, and perhaps no building, or {lart of one, in this s^-le has 
been so often drawn or 
90 much admired. Two 
sides of it are of the 
same age and in the 
same style as the porch 
(woodcut Xo. 287}, and 
equally beaatifnl. The 
other two are somewhat 
later, the columns sup- 
porting pointed instead 
of round arches. At All 
there is another, simi- 
lar to that at Aries, 
and fragments of such 
colon nades are found 
in many places. That 
of FoQtiftx>ide (woodcut 
Xa 298) is one of 
the muet complete and 
]>erfect, and some of 
its capitals are treat- 
ed with a Avedom and 
boldneuH, and at the 
same time with an ele- 
gance, not often rivalled 
anywhere. They CTen 
excel — for the purpose 
at least — the Uerman 
capitals of the same age. 
Those at Elne are more cii rious than tlioso of a ny other clobter in France, 
■o&ras I know — somcof them showing so distinct an imitation of Egyp- 
tian work as instantly to strike any one at all familiar with that styles 
Yet they are treated with a lightness and freedom so wholly medinTal 
M to show that it is possible to copy the spirit without a servile adhe- 
iBBoe to the bttm. Here, as in all the examples, every capital is diflerent 

Hb. II. Ch. I. 



— tho artieta revelling in freedom from restraint, and sparing neither 
time nor pains. We find in these esamples a delicacy of handling 
and refinement of feeling &r more Gharact«riBtio of the South than of 
tho ruder North, and must admit that their architects have in these 
cloiatera produced objects with which wo have nothing of the kind in 
England to compete. 

capital! U anitUr. FAn?. Prm 



Part II. 




Chnrolio« At Porig^eux, Souillnr, Angf»uleine, Albv, Tonloiwe, ConqneA, Ttmrs.- 


The moment you pass the hills forming the watershed bet\reen the 
rivers flowing to the iSIeiliterranoan and those which delouch into 

^ the Bay of Biscay, yon become 

'o ^^^.^ aware of having left the style 

!^]iK . 1^3 ^® ^^^^^^ i"*'* ^^^" deecrihing 

' " "Vl - Oi *^ enter npon a new architec- 

n I i^4 *"^^ province. This province 

jSS ^ JT possesses two distinct and se- 

*^| parate styles, very unlike one 

* a^/»w another both in character and 

-^y^TOCT ^^^^^^^' '^'^^ ^^* ^^ these is 

IQ^ Q '^^ ^ ronnd-arehed tnnnel-vanlteil 

^ (u»thic style, more remarkable 

^ -..^ ^ ft>r the grandeur of its concep- 

C#'^ " JPIB S^ "^ 'J^ tions than for the success with 

ft y&>. ^A«ig»n iq ^ S153i».'»«t:."Q wlm-h th<>«} conceptions are 

.^ - H - n T- i»i <^rrieil out, or for lK««utv' of de- 

■ je T * 1 ^^^^^* '^'^^* s<H?ond is a jH>inted- 

■ •■ S Zi 4 ■*' 1 archtNl, dome-roofe<l style |x^ 

culiar to the province. The 
existence of this i>eciiliar form 
of art in this i>art of France, 

^j 1 'I where it is alone found, is quite 

suflicient to establish the pn^ 
r'i - tsr^m existence in this province of a 

-' r . * race differing from that inlia- 

biting the rest of the collntr^^ 

^.. i though it is not at present 

^j, f^ easy to determine their origin. 

3111. Pbn »»f St. Front, ivripmx. Knmi F. d- Vrnwiih. From the prcvalcucc of Basquc 
MkMie 100 ft t« 1 In. terminations to the names of 

the principal towns in the dis- 
trict» and from the fragments of that people still existing on its sonthem 
Aontier, it would appear most likely that they were the